Braving the Storm
by pisces317
Summary: Carson is stranded on a planet just in time for a snow storm to appear. What happens when he takes refuge with a dear friend? Will John brave the storm to rescue his friend and bring him home? Written for GW's CB Challenge. Carson whump, slight Shep whup
1. The Storm

**Title: **Braving the Storm

**Summary: **Carson is stranded on a planet just in time for a snow storm to appear. What happens when he takes refuge with a dear friend? Will John brave the storm to rescue his friend and bring him home?

**Rating: **PG-13

**Spoiler: **Set sometime in Season 6. Elizabeth and Carson never died and Ford never "died" on the Hive Ship.

**Disclaimer: **Not mine, just borrowing

**Author's Note: **I made up my own words in this story for certain things so here are the definitions and pronunciations. **  
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***srashas – means Mother in Laws**

***Lansiah – pronounced Lawn-shah**

***Pich (pitch) – a type of tree much like Maple tree. **

***Brife – a type of tree much like Oak trees.**

***Eilder (eyelder) – another type of tree unlike any on Earth.**

***Rosha – pronounced Russia.**

***Icha (ee-kaw) – idiot, dork, silly, etc.**

***Hoa – the name of the planet.**

***Chaia – a type of stone similar in look to granite but with the shape and texture of terracotta tile. **

***Straya – fabric that is the smooth look of silk but has the softness of a thick chenille blanket. **

***Britta – a form of chicken**

***Brocha – like goat cheese**

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><p><strong>Part I - The Storm<strong>

White puffs of clouds floated through the sky like little swirls of whipped cream upon a moat of coffee momentarily blacking out one of the suns as it breezed by. Strong winds raged through the little village rattling doors, loose windows, and heavy winter clothes, ruffling the thick fabrics and wrapping them around their owners with the force of a three year old wrapping around his mother's leg. Flakes of snow drifted down from the creamy clouds, falling with the grace of a feather in the wind and landing on the unforgiving ground, melting into non-existence upon contact.

The temperature dropped several degrees making all in the village shiver from the unexpected cold, their breath showing in the air as little gray puffs of smoke. Every breath they drew into their lungs seemed to freeze the organs instantly making each continued inhale that much harder as the cold constricted their chests. The villagers moved about the small town in haste wanting nothing more than to arrive in their cozy homes to escape the weather that was currently descending upon them. Those who paid attention to such things as the weather knew what to expect and had warned their friends and family in advance so many of them had plenty of food to keep them through the potential storm, plenty of firewood to warm themselves and their families, and plenty of company to keep them sane from the inane presence of bickering wives or grumpy _srashas_***** should it be needed.

Lansiah***** looked up at the dismal sky with excitement in her blue-grey eyes, a fire within them that could rival the one that currently blazed hotly in her hearth. Though she was a child of the forest and currently in study to become a healer and the frost time usually killed all the plants, bushes, and trees she loved, she couldn't help but feel a child-like wonder about the weather as soon as it appeared. Giddiness always seemed to rise within her, warming her slowly freezing heart and spreading the heat throughout her currently freezing limbs.

Whistling sounded through the air as her axe swung down, cutting through it like a hot knife in butter, and connected sharply with the solid piece of Pich***** that stood on her block. She winced as the reverberations ran through her numb fingers and trailed up her arms but proceeded to gather the rather miniscule amounts of firewood she'd managed to cut into her arms, placing most into the folds of her dress to make them easier to carry as she trudged through the already gathering snow to her modest home that lay under a collection of Brife***** just a mere thirty feet away.

She walked through her front door depositing the logs of Pich onto the stone floor where a copious amount Eilder***** logs mysteriously lay just inside the door blocking the path from the entry point to her fireplace. Giving a patient shy (Rosha***** would never get the hint would he?), Lansiah carefully crossed over the wood and placed her own small amount on the opposite side of the deep, stone hearth.

Cold wind swept through the living area of her cottage rattling the wooden seals over the open windows as it went and causing her to shiver as the icy tendrils of the air caressed her exposed ivory flesh. Her long raven hair swirled artistically behind her, playing with the sides of her round face and painting intricate patterns in the air as it caught the breeze while she walked back outside to secure the seals; the last thing she wanted with this frost storm was to have a puddle of melted flakes beneath everyone of her many windows since not only would it be a mess later for her to clean up but it would also make keeping the multilevel home of hers warm.

The first level of snow crunched underfoot lending noise to the air where there wasn't one, the sound echoing for what seemed to her as miles though what was probably more like a few feet. Her sharp ears perked up when she heard the return sound of crunching coming her way and she skittered over to her wrap around, broad, covered porch to grab the closest weapon her hands touched. Sadly it wasn't more than a trowel but given the right hands the gardening tool could do quite a bit of damage to a stranger and Lansiah believed her hands to be the right one.

The crunching came again and Lansiah tensed in anticipation holding onto her tool until her knuckles visibly whitened from lack of blood and her long nails began to dig into the supple flesh of her thumb joints. She quietly stepped off the wooden porch, her feet barely touching the stairs as she glided off and into the swiftly falling snow, edging closer to her would be attacker.

"Lansiah," a very familiar voice called through the dead air and dismal weather. "Lansiah, lass are you out there?"

Lansiah lowered her arms as relief flooded through her and a broad smile brightened her face. "Carson?" she asked, stepping up close enough to see the Scottish doctor. "What are you doing out here?"

Doctor Carson Beckett trudged through the rapidly gathering snow, wincing every time he put weight on his right leg. His medical pack was carelessly slung over his arms and strapped to his back giving the already hunching doctor a more crooked look as he tried to spare his exposed face from the elements of the weather. He straightened when he came into view of the young woman and offered her a charming smile. "I came to see to a few of the village elders. The colder weather doesn't agree with them and they wanted me to make sure things were alright. One thing led to another and here I am."

"Where is Colonel Sheppard and his team?" Lansiah asked knowing that the phrase 'one thing led to another' meant that Carson had been essentially passed from one ailing family to the next like a ceremonial wine. She did not think the Colonel would leave the doctor here but she also didn't see him either. Her brows furrowed as she took in the way her friend was limping and wincing with every other step but she kept a passive face as he came close enough to touch her. If there was one thing Carson was, it was a stubborn patient so the less he suspected the better.

The pair of them patiently waited for the other to begin heading to the doorway of the inviting house, one wanting answers and forgetting her manners and the other not wanting to be assuming and just barge in. When Carson gave another painful wince, Lansiah took the hint and began walking, albeit slowly for her friend's convenience, to her hut making sure to keep a watchful on her companion as she went. She offered an inquiring eyebrow raise at the Scot earning a smile as her reward but he remained silent on her question so she shrugged and waited until they were inside the house before she asked again.

"Carson, where is Colonel Sheppard?" she asked as she led him to the living area where they both proceeded to shed their winter clothing and sit rather closely to the burning fire.

Heat engulfed Carson like a wool blanket toasted in an oven and making him momentarily forget the question. When an uncomfortable tingling could be felt in his extremities his mind snapped back to the here and now reminding him that he not only had a captive audience but a friend with him – a fact that he was grateful for since it was always nicer to have one's friends around when weathering a storm. "I sent the Colonel back to Atlantis," he finally answered after several minutes' pause. "The stubborn lad shouldn't even be here but he insisted on accompanying me. I can't blame him really; he gets stir crazy if he's kept in one place for too long and as magnificent as Atlantis is, she can be pretty suffocating at times."

Lansiah smiled at her friend's description of the Colonel and the majestic city. She herself had been a guest of theirs not long ago and though she could see how others were completely smitten with the wonderful, and even friendly, city, she preferred the wilderness of her home to the multitude of ocean water. The people of Atlantis had been a strange mixture of solemnity, geniality, business, pleasure and family to which she'd struggled to adapt. But there had been a sanguinity to the entire place, telling her that, if one had been taken away, the rest would suffer in there own, small way. Each person on the city had their own purpose to help keep the ship and her people working. It had been a truly amazing place to visit but she had found herself even more smitten with her world when she'd returned.

"Well," she said after studying the man before her with both the professional eye of a healer and the adoring eye of a friend, "I am not sure about you but I could use a cup of something warm and little bit of bread with jam. I do not have anything started for dinner but I do believe this is the perfect weather for soup." She chatted amicably as she walked into the kitchen, digging through her pantry for some tea and the bread before she turned her attention to the ice box for the jam. When she turned around to begin grabbing some plates and a knife, Lansiah had been startled to find Carson standing in the kitchen holding out the necessary items with a sheepish smile on his face.

"Sorry, I didn't mean to startle you. I just thought I'd make myself useful," he explained as he came around the island and began assembling the pot for tea while she sliced the loaf of bread and placed a generous helping of strawberry jam on the plate next to them.

She watched as he limped back into the living area and placed the kettle on the stone shelf in the fire to allow it to heat up the water and decided that now, while he was essentially trapped by the disastrous weather, would be as good a time as any to ask about his injury. "What's wrong with your leg? You're limping."

Carson stepped away from the fire, grimacing when deep, bone throbbing pain shot up to his hip but did his best to offer an assuring smile afterward. "It's nothing, just a silly little accident tis all. I'll be fine in a bit."

"I asked what was wrong, not what happened or would you be alright," Lansiah pointed out, crossing her arms over her chest in the stubborn manner she'd been accustomed to doing in her childhood. Hurt, whether faked or sincere she didn't know, flashed briefly across her friend's face but it was soon replaced with a laughing smile making herself laugh in turn. "Of course, I'm glad to know you'll be alright icha*****," she chided with the tone of a sister though her feelings towards the doctor were anything but, "but your answer didn't tell me what was in fact wrong in the first place which was, after all, my original question."

"Oh, right. I sprained my knee while stepping into a rather deep hole. It's nothing to fret over though I'll admit walking the rest of the way over here might not have been the best idea I've had." The genial smile quickly faded from his long face giving way to a grimace as more pain shot through his leg. The limb was currently begging for him to sit down and stay off it for awhile but the stubborn Scot wasn't one to listen when it meant making himself at home in someone else's house. His mother would be appalled at the level of rudeness that would show and if there was one thing Carson wouldn't do, it was disgrace or disappoint his mother.

In his effort to appease the hurting leg, the doctor leaned to his left to take some of his weight of the limb but unfortunately his balance wasn't at its best right now and he began tumbling sideways towards the hard floor. Soft but strong hands wrapped around his torso stopping his quick decent with an abruptness that jarred his body and he found himself leaning on the slight looking young woman.

Lansiah had seen that Carson was about to fall over so she'd swiftly moved to break his fall all the while moving him into the broad, cushioned chair that she'd so often curled up in to read. The fabrics on the chair gave an 'oof' sound as his body weight was carelessly placed on it and the air escaped through the tiny microfibers and dust flew about the room, dancing upon the air like tiny wood sprites of the tales of old.

The kettle in the fire shrieked, announcing that the water had been heated thoroughly, drawing her attention to the briefly forgotten tea. She walked over to the fire, grabbing the piece of one of her thicker cloaks that had been torn to shreds on one of her many walks through the forest and used it to lift the pot out of the fire and onto the stone ledge just outside range of the crackling flames. After giving Carson a stern glare when he'd made a move to help Lansiah grabbed the small tray that held the teacups and began to pour the inviting liquid into the china.

"Drink your tea and eat your snack then I'll take a look at your knee," she instructed evenly handing him one of the cups and a slice of jammed bread. "After that you can take a nap while I make dinner."

"That's really not necessary," Carson argued thickly, the honey in the tea coating his throat making his voice heavier than normal. "I really am okay."

"That may be," Lansiah answered after giving him an appraising look. "But it will still do you good to get some rest. I am sure you have not gotten much since you arrived here." They way he averted his gaze told her how close her words had hit. She gave a satisfactory nod then drank from her cup. "Very well, it is settled. You will rest after I have examined you. Do you need help getting upstairs?"

Carson gave a deep sigh, one of longing and exhaustion. He set his now empty plate and teacup down back on the tray and heaved his tired body off the very comfortable chair, grimacing when his knee gave a deep throb of protest. "No thank you dear, I think I'll manage."

Lansiah didn't respond as she watched him slowly, painfully, make his way upstairs. Over the past few months she and Carson had formed a deep, if not a bit new, friendship and given his many trips to visit the elders, she had made one of her spare rooms into a guestroom for him whenever he visited. It hadn't taken long for her trust to have been earned by the mild-mannered (except when it came to his patients) Scot which alone said something given that her trust was, for the most part, hard earned and even hard to keep.

Blue-gray irises filled with longing, desire, concern, and adoration tracked Carson's every move, watching for the slightest sign that he'd need some form of help and only when she heard his uneven footsteps above her signaling that he'd made it to his room without problem did she relax her taut muscles and fluidly move about the main floor gathering supplies she would need during her examination.

After heaving a heavy sigh, Lansiah slowly made her way up to the second level. Carson Beckett was not an easy patient and she knew she would have a hard time keeping him off his feet while he healed, especially during something like a snow storm where he would pace just to be able to "do something". Preparing herself for an argument with the stubborn man, she walked into his room. This would not be fun.

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><p>Lieutenant Colonel John Sheppard walked through the halls of Atlantis feeling the calming hum of the city in the distance of his mind like a security blanket that he never wanted to get rid of. The doors to his quarters slid closed behind with a hydraulic swish as he slowly made his way to debrief Elizabeth. His posture was slightly hunched as he walked into the transporter and pressed the screen to the closest transporter to Elizabeth's office. It hadn't been long since he had been released to light duty and his still healing broken ribs were letting him know they hadn't appreciated the strain of sitting on the jumper for an hour followed by a lot of walking and carrying whatever Carson had allowed him to carry. Warm pain spread through his injured side with every slight twisting movement he made making his arm snake around it in protective instinct.<p>

Booted footfalls echoed through the halls as many of Atlantis' military men walked through them, heading to their quarters or their friend's quarters to prepare for the next day. Keeping time on Atlantis wasn't always easy since there weren't any passing seasons to mark the changing months with so things like holidays always snuck up on the newest members of the Pegasus galaxy often smacking them upside the head with its abrupt arrival by the time they realized what day it was.

Apparently today was Christmas Eve. A few hopeful scientists and more than a few hopeful military men had pointed it out wanting the next day or two off. It hadn't taken Elizabeth much thought to easily grant their wish and give everyone except a few key personnel the next couple days off, leaving it to the department heads to figure out who the unlucky people would be to keep an eye on things while the others enjoyed themselves. Thankfully since Atlantis was comprised of many cultures, the people who didn't celebrate Christmas volunteered to keep watch while the others enjoyed themselves, only requesting that the same courtesy be given to them when the time came.

John had been happy about the days off; the people of Atlantis haven't been given many of them and they were desperately needed. However you can't expect everyone in the Pegasus galaxy to celebrate Christmas so when a call came in from Hoa***** requesting Carson's assistance, John had been the one to voluntarily fly the doctor there.

He hadn't liked the look of the gray clouds when they'd arrived, flying through the dismal puffs with enough speed to make swirls in them like curly-cues in ice cream but Beckett had insisted that the trip would be a short one, in and out then they'd be gone so he'd reluctantly continued on, holding his reservations until a later date when he'd be able to say, "I told you so." Unfortunately when the time had come there hadn't been time to say the hated phrase. Between the multitude of patients that seemed to always appear out of no where and the oncoming storm, John and Carson had been kept quite busy; their only time of communication had been when the doctor had come up to him telling him to go back to Atlantis. Of course John had argued heavily about leaving Beckett behind but the Scot was just as stubborn as he was and wouldn't budge on his standpoint claiming that John needed to get back to Atlantis and rest – a fact that had made the Colonel's upper lip curl in disgust – and that if the storm got too bad, John would be the best person to organize a team and come back for him when it was finished.

Elizabeth's office came into view, brightly lit against the din of the gateroom. The Leader of Atlantis was obviously awake and waiting for him but John also suspected that she was currently drowned in work of her own as well and wasn't even aware of the time. His first instinct had been to tap his radio and ask Carson when Elizabeth had last eaten but his mind quickly reminded him that he'd left the doctor back on the planet and the chances of anyone else of his staff knowing the information wasn't very great. Sure the medical staff on Atlantis were all a very caring lot of people but, like Carson and John, they had their specific people that they paid particular attention to and sadly, Elizabeth wasn't one of them.

"Hey 'lizabeth," he greeted leaning as casually as he could in her door frame, his normal 'John Sheppard smile' upon his face.

"John," Elizabeth greeted, surprise coloring her voice and raising her brows making them meet in the middle of her face, "what are you doing here? Shouldn't you be resting?" The trademark grin on John's face turned to a sincere amused smile - just as he'd guessed. When she didn't receive a response her eyes roamed over to the clock that was located on the corner of her computer screen. Surprise was the first emotion to register on her face and apologetic horror was the next. "It's time for the debrief already? Time sure does fly when you're getting lectured by the IOA."

John's witty response was cleverly cut off by both of their stomachs growling at them, loudly demanding food in the very animalistic way.

"What do you say we do this debrief over dinner," Elizabeth suggested standing out of her chair and shutting everything down for the night. Her stomach gave another rumble making her look at her watch. It didn't come as a shock to her to learn that it had been almost twelve hours since her last meal but the lateness of the hour did make her blush slightly as she amended her statement. "Rather, let's do the debrief over a midnight snack."

"Sounds perfect," John assented easing off the door frame and waiting for Elizabeth to join him. "The mess should be fully stocked since the kitchens are used to McKay raiding it about this time."

Elizabeth smiled at the reminder of the bottomless pit that was Rodney McKay. If it wasn't for the trade agreements they'd made with other planets, the scientist would have eaten them into starvation long ago. "Yes I imagine it is. That means that you can eat something more than just an apple right?"

"Hey, I eat more than that!" John objected with a boyish frown. He screwed up his eyes in concentration, wrinkling the right one as the right side of his upper lip curled upwards in concentration. As it so happened he hadn't actually eaten more than that lately but he wasn't going to admit that to Elizabeth. "Besides, you're one to talk. You hardly eat more than a bird."

Elizabeth giggled like an older sister when John poked her side in teasing. She had the feeling that if his side wasn't hurting him he probably would have wrapped an arm around her shoulders and brought her in for a brotherly hug.

While three quarters of the base thought that she and John had "a thing" going on between them, the other quarter knew that the military commander's heart belonged to a certain Athosian leader and that he viewed Elizabeth as a sister that he had to watch over, protect and tease at all costs. She didn't mind the speculation, in her opinion it kept most of the occupants of Atlantis young, but it sometimes made her wonder about the intelligence of her constituents. She knew that most of their IQ's were probably close to ten times higher than her own but that also meant that they really didn't have any common sense when it should be applied.

Where on Earth or Pegasus did they think that this kind of interaction between them constitute attraction? Yes definitely. The scientists on the base were the smartest people on the base but they didn't have any common sense in between them.

The friendly banter between the Leader of Atlantis and the Military Commander of Atlantis continued the entire trek to the mess hall, easily lightening the mood and distracting them from the slightly more serious conversation that was to come. The light mood continued until after they'd grabbed their food and sat down – then the more serious debrief began.

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><p>Carson woke to the sounds of the windows in his room rattling as a strong gust of wind swept through the cracks in the wood, whistling at a pitch that would make dogs go crazy. For a moment he was able to imagine he was back home on Scotland in the middle of winter but the smell of syrup quickly brought him out of that fantasy the longer the Pich wood began to burn in the stone hearth in his room. Lansiah had obviously been and gone while he'd slept; he was in different clothing, his by all rights but not like his Atlantis garb. The pants he wore were light in fabric like they had once been thick but had been thinned out by years and years of wear and tear. His shirt was light as well, long sleeved and pulled over the undershirt he'd used for his Atlantis uniform earlier that morning. The right pant leg was rolled up to his thigh exposing his bandaged knee which currently lay supported and elevated on a spare pillow; the rest of his leg was supported as well but it was more to help with the blood flow to the lower limb than necessity.<p>

With a small groan of discomfort as his muscles groggily woke up, Carson sat up, lowering his legs to the stone floor and scrubbing his hands over his face. The fire crackled in the hearth sending sparks every which way in the deep stone fireplace when the wood began to crumple as it weakened and the familiar feeling of home returned to the Scot. He knew he was homesick but it wasn't until now that he realized just how homesick he truly felt. The feeling threatened to overwhelm him but he refused to give in. He left Scotland oh so long ago and came to America to end up becoming one of the most recommended doctors in the country easily recommending himself to the SGC where he willingly embarked upon one of the most exciting adventures anyone in his family had ever experienced.

The decision to join the Atlantis Expedition hadn't been an easy one after all he had his mum to think about but in the end she had assured him that she would be okay. Sure he hadn't given her exact details because he'd signed a confidentiality agreement that went beyond prison on Earth if it was violated but he'd summarized it as best he could, explaining he would be able to work with the best in their field, technology he'd never seen before and make advances in medicine that he could never hope to do in his current place. He'd laughed hard when his mum had asked, "So it's like CERN in Angels and Demons, yeah?" Though he'd only begun reading the bloody book, Carson had gotten to the point where he knew what CERN was and reluctantly answered with an affirmative "Aye" before he went on to express his concerns about leaving her alone and his concern for her well being.

But his mum being the angel of a woman that she was she had quickly assured him that she would be okay as long as he was happy and kept in touch as often as he could. His heart broke when he realized that he wouldn't be able to uphold either amendment but he promised he'd be fine and told her he'd write to her as often as he could. "Unfortunately," he'd told her, "it probably wouldn't be for quite some time since I'll be very busy with getting settled in and work."

The morning he'd left for good had been an exciting one filled with misery at the loss of his home; while he'd been living in America for years now Scotland would always be his home.

A soft knock at his door drew Carson out of his memories to the lovely figure of Lansiah in the doorway. Her long black hair trailed over her shoulders bringing the oval face and soft features in to focus offering a stark contrast with the pale, beautiful ivory skin. The silhouette of her figure was accented by her slimming long sleeved shirt (which was similar to his own in both look and texture) whose pale lilac color accented the cream, thick undershirt beneath it. On her hips she wore a pair of jeans that she had borrowed from Lt. Cadman while she'd been treated on Atlantis. The material easily showed off her womanly curves and slim but muscular legs ending on the floor with an inch of fabric to spare drawing attention to her bare feet. Concern reflected in her slate eyes and for a moment the Scot thought he could tell that she wanted nothing more than to run over to him and hold him like a little boy who missed his mommy. But she remained where she was leaning against the door frame and letting the soft candlelight in the hall soften her already soft features even more.

"How are you feeling?" she asked gently, her voice sending soothing notes into his aching heart.

He drew in a shaky breath feeling as though he hadn't breathed in months and it wasn't until a light prick of water hit his hand that he realized he'd been crying. Drawing his sleeve over his hand, Carson quickly dabbed away at the salt water leaking from his eyes like a Scottish rain weeping from clouds then cleared his throat hoping his voice sounded stronger than he currently felt. "Better," he answered with a smile as he tested his knee. Pain spiked from the joint but he could tell the combination of the wrapping and elevation had done it good. He gave her another smile, this time more genuine than the first and complimented, "You're getting good with your craft."

Deep crimson rose to her cheeks, warming her face as embarrassment changed her previously relaxed posture to awkward. "Thank you," she answered though he could tell she didn't actually listen to a word he'd just said. Lansiah was a humble young woman who rarely took a compliment for what it was. She normally found a way to dispute the statement, arguing against everything from her looks to her usefulness to how well versed she is in the art of healing and at times when – Carson suspected – she couldn't find a way to argue with the compliment she merely offered a polite smile – like the one she'd just given him – and replied with a curt but soft, 'Thank you,' – like she'd just said. "Dinner is ready if you're hungry."

"Sounds wonderful, thank you," Carson answered to cover the loud rumbling coming from his stomach. He pushed off the edge of the down mattress wobbling slightly when his blood pressure briefly dropped to dangerous levels before righting itself again in an instant. It was hard not to grimace every time he put weight on his right leg but he managed it, settling for wincing instead. He could tell that his host was already worried about him and he didn't want to cause her to worry more.

It obviously hadn't worked when Lansiah suggested, "I can bring you up a tray if you'd prefer to stay here."

Knowing that he would be wasting his breath by saying anything reassuring, Carson chose to politely ignore her suggestion by offering a coy smile as an answer before he began to slowly make his way down the reasonable stone staircase.

Most in the village didn't know that he preferred the comfort of Lansiah's home. It wasn't merely the company it provided, which was almost reason enough in and of itself, but it was the way the house was built as well. The villagers themselves considered the house a hut that was nothing worthy of note but what many did not know was that it was partially built into the hill that surrounded the back of it. The hill itself was beautiful; the slow rise of the ground showered with trees, grass, bushes and streams as it seamlessly connected with the Ohoa mountains behind them housing wildlife both dangerous and docile serving as food and pets for the people in the valley. Lansiah's house connected on the east side of the place, allowing for the sturdy staircase and spacious second floor that had been carved out of the stone that served as the base of the mountains.

All of the floors were made of the same chaia***** (as the Hoan's called it) as that of the mountain, giving a smooth but strong surface beneath their feet that was easily heated by fire in the hearths in the winter when the temperatures dropped to below freezing and was kept cool by the small drafts the underground provided year-round. The countertops in the kitchen were made of the same chaia as the floors but were made out of one slab rather than several creating a more finished look to the surface than the flooring.

The furniture was made of Brife creating armchairs, tables, desks, dressers, cabinets, and beds that would last for years to come but the fabrics were made of Straya***** which leant a homey feel to the place that most of the others lacked completely. A main rug similar to that of the Persian rugs on Earth decorated each room, covering the main portion of the floor that wasn't occupied with furniture and accenting the humble curtains and easy fabrics that surrounded each living space. Candlesticks hovered on the walls and tastefully decorated abandoned tabletops and cabinets. Carson hadn't yet figured out how the Burrow (as he lovingly named it) had running water but didn't have electricity but all in all he didn't ask either; if there was one amenity that he would prefer to have over the other it was water of electricity.

They walked into the kitchen with Lansiah's gliding strides slowing and matching Carson's limping ones. Carson swiftly moved about the kitchen, overly familiar with where everything was, and grabbed a couple bowls and a tray then headed over to the fireplace in the kitchen where a pot of stew was simmering. He placed the tray on the nearby table then put the bowls on top before he began ladling generous helping of the savory smelling soup into the ceramic dishes. In the vastness of the kitchen he heard Lansiah slicing a loaf of bread and placing the pieces onto a plate and once again the feeling of home struck him. Only this time it wasn't the home of his mother he longed for, it was a home of his own.

It came as no surprise to anyone on Atlantis when he began dating Lt. Cadman. Many supported him in the relationship wanting nothing more than his happiness to succeed but alas in the end he and the Lt. had discovered that though they shared many things in common, it wasn't enough to begin the kind of relationship they both were hoping for. They parted amicably and to this day were very close friends - often seeming more like brother and sister than friend and friend.

As much as he tried, Carson had never felt the kind of connection he longed for, and briefly had on Hoff, until he met Lansiah. She hadn't been too badly injured when they'd brought her to him – a few broken ribs, a broken arm, and a badly sprained ankle that had required surgery to repair – but it had been bad enough to warrant a few days stay in the infirmary so his staff could keep an eye on her healing wounds and for signs of shock and/or a concussion. She along with several other Hoan's had been caught in an earthquake that had collapsed several homes of the village. The town itself hadn't been equipped to handle the multiple injuries ranging in magnitude from light to severe and had immediately jumped on John's offer of help when he and his team had stumbled upon the village.

He could tell that Elizabeth had been disappointed not to be able to establish a trade for food, food that they had desperately needed at the time, but he also knew the leader of Atlantis had a caring heart and had no problem in sending him with a team straight to the planet. After five hours two more teams had come surrounded by enough military men to make your own squadron. They'd quickly assessed what needed to be done and the marines in compliance with the able-bodied medics were swiftly able to set up a few medical tents where the less severe of injuries had been patched up. Four jumpers stood on stand by each manned with the best pilot Atlantis had for the worst of the injuries – the ones that required immediate surgery and other things – along with the best field medics the Earth military and medical profession had.

Every single person on Atlantis worked day and night for a week to clear out the collapsed houses, taking all of the injured villagers to Atlantis where they were housed while the men under John along with the villagers that had remained unharmed rebuilt the small town. It had been a grueling week but the members had traded in shifts so that no one worked more than twelve hours – with the exception of the department heads of course. During the week Carson, John, and Elizabeth had overworked themselves past the point of exhaustion managing to land the leader of Atlantis in the infirmary from dehydration, low blood sugar and exhaustion. John had soon joined her (and had be to threatened with restraints to stay) when he'd gotten careless and hadn't moved quickly enough to get out of the way of a falling beam earning him a badly dislocated shoulder in the process. Carson had managed to take catnaps here and there in between dealing with the casualties and the families of said casualties, surgeries, and new medical emergencies; those catnaps were the only thing that kept him from collapsing wherever he stood in pure exhaustion.

Two weeks after the earthquake Carson had finally had time to pay closer attention to his patients and he had gravitated towards Lansiah with the pull of ten gravitational fields. There was a strength about the girl that he couldn't define for it was hidden beneath insecurity and fear. Her flat out refusal to sit around and do nothing was annoying to say the least but it made fondness grow within his heart because it reminded him of Colonel Sheppard – who at the time had been fighting tooth and nail to be released so he could go back to work. Whenever anyone spoke to her there was a wary glint in her eyes and he knew she wouldn't be trusting any of them any time soon which was fine with him since she would be staying on Atlantis long enough for that trust to be gained.

Over the next couple months Carson spent more time on Hoa than he did on Atlantis helping to treat and monitor the injured while at the same time getting to know every single villager and earning their trust. At first he'd kept his distance from Lansiah; not only did he not want his attraction to the young woman known but he also wanted to let her make up her mind about him and to recover from what had happened.

One night after he'd finished with delivering a baby that had taken two days to decide to come, Lansiah had come to him carrying a cup of tea and a plate of britta*****,brocha*****, and fruit. She'd apologized for how meager the meal had been but said that he looked like he could use the sustenance anyways. They'd chatted amicably, sharing jokes and stories laughing at each other's idiosyncrasies and before they knew it dawn had come greeting them with the rainbow shine the planet's five suns granted. Carson had walked her back to her home where she offered him one of her spare rooms to sleep in claiming he looked exhausted and needed the rest. He'd accepted her offer only after arguing and denying for twenty minutes hadn't worked and had the best sleep he'd ever had in his entire life.

"What are you thinking about?" Lansiah asked breaking into his thoughts with the grace of a battleaxe opening a jar.

"Hm?" Carson asked bringing his blue eyes into focus upon her beautiful face.

"You had a far off look in your eyes. I thought you might be thinking about something." Lansiah spooned a generous helping of stew into her mouth then used her hand to cover up the mess that dribbled out when her lips couldn't connect fully. Embarrassment once again colored her cheeks but Carson remained quiet feigning ignorance.

"The stew is incredible," he complimented easily ignoring her question. He grabbed a slice of bread spread with a thin coating of butter and bit in, savoring the flavor of the sourdough bread and the creamery butter.

"Thank you. My father taught me everything he knew about cooking; he was well known for his cooking throughout Hoasha, sometimes he was hired to cook for the assemblies when they met with people from other planets." Her voice quieted the longer she talked and her eyes grew sad and distant at the same time as memories obviously swirled around in her mind making her lose touch with the current reality.

An uncomfortable silence descended upon them blanketing them in its oppressive thickness. Carson knew that Lansiah had lost her father at an early age but she hadn't spoken of him or her experience much beyond saying that he'd died when she was ten leaving her mother to care for her on her own until she succumbed to her grief five years later. Ever since then Lansiah had been on her own, fending for herself and learning what she could for her chosen profession naturally by trial and error. She's actually getting quite good at the art of healing but Carson knew there were a few things he could teach her if she wanted him to.

He finished the stew and bread then limped over to the sink where he began cleaning the dishes, breathing in the sharp scent of pine as the soap lathered and expanded. He wasn't sure how she did it but she managed to make the soap smell wonderful without having any of the scent rub off on the dishes. He twisted around grabbed the empty plate where the slices of bread had been and began washing it while Lansiah silently, almost mechanically, grabbed a metal pot similar to a dutch oven and poured the leftover stew into it before placing it inside the ice box that served as her refrigerator, effectively preserving it until lunch tomorrow.

After the dishes had been dried and put away and the remnants of dinner cleaned up, the two of them went into the living area curling into their respective chairs watching the fire burn in the hearth and listening it crackle as the wind howled desperately outside.

Curious about the progression of the storm, Carson got out of his chair and limped over to door, peering through the glass window of it to watch the wind blow and the snow paint curling patterns in the air as it swirled around. He felt a presence next to him as Lansiah came over to join him but didn't comment, merely wrapped an arm around her beyond happy when she didn't pull away and melted into his touch, curling into him and wrapping her arms around him.

They stood by the window watching the storm pour down over them for what felt like five seconds but was actually closer to thirty minutes before Carson's knee began complaining about the weight it was taking. He grimaced and shifted so he wasn't putting so much pressure on it but Lansiah pulled away studying him with concern etched on her lovely features. She leaned up and gave him a lingering kiss on the cheek before she moved away, slightly pulling his arm as she did so. "Come on," she said nudging him towards the stairs, "it's time for bed."

Carson gave a great yawn. "Aye I believe you're right. I'm sure the storm will have finished by tomorrow."

Sadness crept into the adamantium eyes, softening them to melted aluminum but Lansiah offered a small smile none the less. "Well if that's the case, I hope this isn't a normal storm and keeps you here longer." She paused waiting with anxiety until he gave her a warm smile of agreement and appreciation before she added with a warm, blushing smile of her own, "Good night Carson."

"Goodnight Lansiah," Carson wished as he watched her float back and forth as she walked down the hall to her room. He went into his own room, wondering if he'd be able to sleep at all given the thoughts that were whirling around in his head. Eventually pain and exhaustion won and the Scottish doctor fell asleep with the widest of grins spread across his almost angelic face.

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><p><strong>Well that's the end of part one - what did you all think?<strong>


	2. Brief Respite

**Thank you so much for the reviews! PLEASE keep them coming, I always love getting them and they help to keep the updates coming faster too. :) *whistles innocently - Nope, I'm not trying to bribe you guys, nope not at all*  
><strong>

**Author's Note:**

***Atad – father; derived (I believe) from Welsh and Irish.**

***Craja – dearest; derived from Scottish Gaelic and Croation.**

***Maisiah – pronounced my-shaw**

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><p><strong>Part II – Brief Respite: <strong>

"No visibility," Rodney's semi-whiney voice announced to the small crowd of people surrounding the monitor. The nervous excited buzz that had filled the control room while the small party hoped they'd be able to rescue their friend now dissipated like a fine morning mist fading into the air.

"Alright, shut it down," Elizabeth commanded with a voice as cold as the winter they were staring at. It never got any easier to make these decisions and she was always forced to harden her soul against the screaming in her head. She turned away from the disheartened faces that were staring at her in shock choosing to walk into her office instead.

John chewed his bottom lip in thought. After a few second's deliberation he moved away from the control center and followed Elizabeth into her office. He waited until she'd lowered her weary body into her desk chair before he announced, "I want to go after Beckett."

Elizabeth let out a resigned sigh; she'd known this was coming. "And you think you'll be able to see better through the storm in person?" she countered raising a disbelieving eyebrow.

"Well you can't always trust MALPS," John answered pathetically shoving his hands into his pockets and standing militarily at attention in front of her. He hoped his body language showed that he wouldn't take 'no' for an answer but when he saw that she was going to continue challenging him, he knew he'd failed.

"You think you can see better than that camera? John, those winds are so bad you couldn't even begin to fly through that." She waited for her words to ring true in the Colonel's ears before she gently, logically continued on, "Now, you said Carson was holed up with some of the locals and that he trusted them. Maybe you need to trust him." As he deflated with defeat, she softened. "I'm sorry, John."

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><p><em>She walks through the woods weaving in and out of the paths of trees as she wanders further into the wood. Her cobalt blue dress trails fallen leaves of deep orange and burning red while their friends crunch beneath the weight of her bare feet as the limbs lead the rest of her on a journey that only her heart knows. Thick flocks of ebony flow like black water down the pale mountainside of her flesh contrasting almost painfully in the soft but fading light of the five suns. Hugging her lean biceps, the blue dress snuggled tightly around the muscles sending comfort and smoothness with every swish. <em>

_It wasn't a very full dress yet it leant a warmth that would put the wool of Earth to shame making it so she didn't feel the playful autumnal breeze as it whispered about her, taunting and teasing. The ruffled fabric that covered her bosom swayed in the same coaxing wind lending a peak into the valley it protected to whoever may be around. The body of her dress resembled that of a maid's corset showing off her womanly figure while the skirts waved to and fro upon her hips. _

_Cautious but curious slate eyes peer around every tree trunk in hopes of finding their heart's desire just on the other side and felt disappointment stab her chest with a well aimed arrow every step she further step she took only to find no one waiting for her. _

_It seemed to her that she would never exit the forests with which she was so familiar when suddenly an opening appeared giving way to an array of light that was blinding in its brilliancy. She slowly edged her way through the opening and found herself standing in a small field of tall grass, the deep greens of it slowly giving way to the more prominent yellows. While most grass on Hoa was velvety in feel this grass was soft almost as though it was covered with an invisible blanket made from the softest fur. Each strand that brushed against her hand reminded her of a dog begging for attention, using the touch to tickle as a reminder before a cold nose could be felt quickly followed by a broad head to pat. _

_Surrounding the field was a collection of Eilder trees easily protecting the place of peace from unfriendly eyes and unwanted company. At the center of the field lay a pool of the cleanest, clearest water she had ever seen, the light blue and green fading into deeper shades the further down one looked. It reminded her of a lake a man could easily drown in though it didn't come any higher than his knees sending chills down her spine and giving a chill to the unnaturally warm air. _

"_Lansiah," a painfully familiar voice called to her causing her to spin on her heel. She gasped, bringing a hand to her mouth with the emotion of surprise, and tears collected in her eyes spilling down her cheeks almost instantly with the ease of a midsummer rain suddenly descending upon the plains. Lansiah wasn't sure how long she'd held her breath but when she finally released it, it was in the form of one word, "Atad__*****__." _

"_Caraja__*****__," he called to her opening his arms ready and waiting to encompass her in his love._

The sound of crying drew Lansiah out of her dreams and causing her to bolt upright in bed. Her heart pounded furiously in worry that something was wrong with Carson and it took her five minutes and the echoes of her ragged breathing her for her to realize that _she_ was crying. She quickly held her breath in hopes of calming her emotions and quieting her sounds; if nothing was the matter with her friend and he was sleeping peacefully she didn't want to be the one that disturbed that peace.

A knock at her door immediately told her that she had already awoken the doctor and she grimaced, annoyed with herself.

"Lansiah, lass are you alright in there?" Carson's soft, concerned voice asked through the solid, Brife door. Without waiting for an answer, the Scot had pushed the door opened and painfully limped into her room, stopping just to the right side of her bed. He paused only for a second in sitting down, worried about crossing any sort of boundaries the young woman might have but the sight of tears falling down her face quickly dismissed any hesitation and he lowered himself onto the mattress just by her hip.

Still caught in the memory of the dream, Lansiah threw herself at Carson, wrapping her arms around his neck with the speed of a Venus fly trap snapping around its prey and clinging on as though her life depended on it. Tears fell copiously upon his shirt drenching the light fabric within seconds while her throat went dry from the sounds that were coming out of it. It felt like the room was beginning to close in around her, suffocating her and making her breaths quicken in anticipation of the feeling.

Carson's long face held surprise on it for a couple of minutes. He hadn't expected the girl to throw herself at him so when he saw blurs of fabric then felt the air go from his lungs it had taken his brain a moment to catch up. He stretched out his right leg on the floor giving his very painful knee a moment's rest while he slowly wrapped his arms around the slight Hoan, holding her gently afraid that any amount of pressure would cause her to shatter before his eyes.

His hand ran down her hair in soothing lines, tugging at a few tangles as it went. His heart broke for her with each tear she cried and he couldn't stop himself from asking, "Cara, what's wrong?" Fear caused his heart to race when Lansiah stilled immediately, stiffened then pulled away with shock in her face. _Have I said somethin' wrong, _he wondered silently, almost smacking himself upside the head for the show of affection.

"What did you call me?" Lansiah asked confused. _He couldn't have just called me that, could he?_

"I apologize. I shouldn't have said anything," Carson responded almost immediately briefly folding his hands in his lap before placing them on the side of the bed, preparing to stand up.

Lansiah stilled him with a soft, outstretched hand placed gently upon his arm. "No please," she whispered, the request sounding almost like a desperate plea, "tell me what you said."

"I called you Cara; it's a form of endearment back home meaning dearest. I really am sorry," Carson almost rattled out, the speed of his explanation almost rivaling Rodney when the scientist had had five pots of coffee. Lansiah gave his arm an assuring squeeze and tried to offer a friendly smile but the gesture fell flat when it came out more of a sad smile, despair and loneliness filling her beautiful eyes.

"My father used to call me something like that," she explained quietly hoping that her reasoning would help make her friend feel more at ease. "When I would climb trees he would to say, 'Be careful Craja; I don't want to be the one to carry you back home.'"

She giggled and the sound warmed Carson's heart unlike anything he'd ever felt. His own crystal eyes crinkled in a smile and his mouth twisted into a partial one but he could easily see that she was far from happy and that hurt more than he liked. Pain pulsed hot and deep within his knee breaking through the moment reminding him that the joint hadn't appreciated the speed with which he'd walked over to his friend's room. In his worry for Lansiah he'd forgotten the injured limb and therefore found himself almost surprised when it began letting him know it needed rest.

Snapping back into reality, Lansiah's giggling smile faded immediately from her lips giving way to a deep frown. "I am sorry to have woken you," she announced evenly, almost professionally. It amazed her to feel stabbing pain pierce her heart with every grimace Carson gave but she kept her face a stoic façade, not wanting to show how deeply she cared. She slowly disentangled herself from the sheets on her bed, minutely wincing when she placed her toasty feet on the ice cold floor, then stood up and hastily grabbed a dressing robe to throw over her bare shoulders. "Come on, back to bed with you."

When she noticed that Carson could barely motivate himself to move off the bed, Lansiah narrowed her eyes with the keen study of her profession. The hands that were holding on to the sides of the bed for support were clenched so tightly the knuckles stood out white as an old scar against the red tinge of his flesh. His right leg was slightly bent and hovering above the ground. It was obvious he was trying to rest it without moving the injured knee too much but the attempt was failing desperately causing more pain than it was helping.

Silently the girl knelt before the pained man, carefully moving his leg so the foot rested on her thigh and began rolling up the thin pant leg to look at the knee. Her eyes slowly trekked their way up his leg until they saw the beginning tendrils of bruising intricately painted a hand's-width below the knee. Her brows furrowed into a frown when her eyes continued up to the joint that was badly swollen and bruised – the knee hadn't looked like that yesterday at all but of course the stubborn man had refused to stay off it as much as he should and made the injury worse in the night.

With a sigh Lansiah rolled his pant leg back down then moved his foot from her thigh back to the floor and stood off the ground with the fluidity of youth and practice. She stood before her friend, debating what to do next but soon realizing there was truly only one option, an option she did not mind at all, she moved forward and instructed, "Scoot back."

Carson sat on the edge of the bed staring at Lansiah for a few moments dreading the idea of moving at all. Though her examination had been extremely gentle it hadn't been without a great deal of pain and he was currently waiting for the unwanted feeling to ebb to a more tolerable level. His heart was racing in the attempt to cool the burning fire engulfing his right leg and his breathing was becoming harsher with ever breath in an attempt not to shed any tears. When he thought he could move again, the Scot looked up to find Lansiah standing before him, arms over her chest, and concern and determination in her eyes. What was it he was supposed to be doing again? Oh yea, scooting!

Biting down hard on his lip to stifle a gasp, groan or cry of pain, Carson slowly began moving to the head of the bed soon thankful for the softness of the mattresses and fabrics beneath him as they supported and cushioned his aching body. The move itself hadn't been far, though the bed was fairly massive, but it had felt like he had been dragging a singeing stump of a leg rather than a fairly healthy limb; every slight jostle of the leg sent fire throughout it burning along the nerve endings with sharp stabs of throbbing pain. As a doctor Carson knew this was not a good sign, more than likely meaning that he might in fact need surgery to repair some damage done; none of which could be done here.

Lansiah waited until Carson started moving before she quickly scuttled out of the room, adorned in her winter cloak and went outside, collecting a massive ball of ice and snow before she scurried back into the fairly warm cottage and back upstairs where it seemed her pained friend had just finished getting into position. She silently slipped off her cloak, placing it underneath his leg to absorb the liquid from the melting ball, then placed the snow pack over thin pant cloth.

Once she was sure Carson was relatively comfortable for the time being, the Hoan moved about her cabin, refilling the stone hearths with logs of wood and kindle, lighting each one in its turn to breathe warmth and comfort back into the home. The sounds of fires crackling in the hearths echoed throughout the hut making her smile in memory of happier times. She missed when life was pleasant and she could look through the eyes of a child at the snow falling upon the ground outside, her child's heart wondering when she would be allowed to go out and play. Now things were different; she was no longer a child but a young woman slowly making her way in the world, succeeding in doing little things with her craft while the village elders called for the Lantean doctor for the bigger things.

Shame would always color her heart when Carson would be called; it felt as though she had failed in the art of healing somehow and was inadequate. On the outside one would never know Lansiah ever felt any such feelings other than confidence and care but inwardly all she felt was cowardice, fear, trepidation, and pain. She'd learned at an early age to hide her true feelings from others and now was a true proficient at the art of deception. The only person – she found – she could not hide her true feelings from was the man upstairs in her room trying to move as little as possible.

The clattering of a ceramic bowl falling off a shelf brought her out of her thoughts at just the right time and her hand moved with the reflexes of cheetah running from its prey, snaking out and grabbing the dish before he crashed to the ground and shattered into pieces. Determined to keep her focus in the here and now, Lansiah proceeded to finish gathering enough food to supply them with a decent breakfast, a couple mugs for tea, the jar of tea and the teapot full of water, placing them all on a well sized tray then taking it up to her room. She paused momentarily in front of Carson's door before she entered. Having remembered that he had apparently taken off the protective wrapping around his knee before coming into here room, she quickly placed the heavy tray upon the bed, wrapped the cloth around her wrist then picked up her tray once again and headed for her room.

Lansiah's room was more like an expansive loft with four walls and a door. It took up a great deal of the second level leaving room for Carson's bedroom, a water closet that served as what Carson referred to the restroom, a hall closet which housed most of her cloths that she used for injuries, and another spare room that was truly no more than a small work area than a bedroom. She opened the heavy wooden door and stepped quietly in, taking in the sight before her with a smile wider than the entire expanse of earth upon Hoa.

Carson Beckett sat upright against the headboard, his head leaning against the headboard and craning his neck. Gentle snores could be heard and Lansiah recognized it as the snore of a man deep in sleep. His hands were lying limply in his lap facing each other. The ball of snow and ice over his knee was nothing more than a cool puddle of water slowly cascading over the joint and landing on the winter cloak beneath his leg. As she watched, his right hand snaked to his right thigh and gave it a gentle squeeze.

If it weren't for the obvious sings of pain Carson was showing Lansiah would have thought the sight of him sleeping on her bed was perfect. Longing shot through her heart, stabbing with such precision she actually felt pain with the emotion. While she would never tell him this, Lansiah dearly wished to be able to call Carson her own.

For some time now she'd begun to feel loneliness creeping up on her with the stealth of a slowly growing vine, wrapping around her and squeezing until she ached. Her slowly growing attraction to the doctor helped to nudge her in his direction that long but wonderful night those few months ago. She hadn't had much in her home in the way of food but she knew that he'd been kept so busy with delivering Maisiah's***** baby that he'd hardly had time to eat or drink anything in over a day so she packed the few things she could find into her favorite basket (usually used for berry picking and plant collecting) and slowly made her way to Maisiah's hut.

By the time the multiple suns had risen the next morning it had felt like she'd known him far longer than five months and their friendship quickly grew from there on.

Movement from the man in the bed brought her back to reality and she quickly went about getting things ready to re-examine the injured knee. She sat on the bed calling, "Carson."

Carson woke to the sound of an angelic voice calling his name so softly he, at first, didn't think he'd heard it. Pain greeted him clearing his foggy mind like a syringe had drawn it within itself. His face scrunched and his eyebrows drew together in pain but he withheld any sound as he realized he wasn't in his own room. Being a doctor he knew he shouldn't be so embarrassed to express pain, after all he'd often encouraged his patients to all the time, but somehow he couldn't bring himself to make a sound, voluntarily. He didn't want to worry Lansiah any more than she already seemed to be.

The warmth of family spread through him as he remembered all the times the Colonel had stubbornly refused to acknowledge that he was in pain. He remembered with fondness more times than he had the patience to count just how often John had said, "Really Doc, I'm fine," when they both knew that he wasn't. It occurred to the Scot exactly _why_ the Colonel acted as he did and he found that the actions made more sense to him now than they ever would. Granted, that didn't mean he'd accept the "normal" responses from his friend it just meant he understood.

The smell of tea made him actually open his eyes. A steaming mug greeted him along with a bowl of what appeared to porridge and milk.

"Eat," Lansiah instructed gently. She held onto the bowl while she waited for him to drink in a few sips of tea then she took the mug out of his hands and replaced it with the food.

After taking a few bites of the food, Carson placed the bowl onto a small table beside the bed. He really didn't have an appetite right now and he thought it was time for some conversation. "So, what shall we do today?" He paused, listening to the relative quite within the room before he continued on. "It sounds like the storm has stopped. Shall we go outside for a wee bit?"

Lansiah wasn't sure exactly what look she gave her friend but guessing by how quickly his hopeful smile had faded, she would suppose it hadn't been a friendly one. She softened her eyes, letting her adoration and love for him show through like an engraving upon metal and replied, "_We _will be staying in today. I do need to go out and check the windows and skies as I believe there is more to come but you will be doing nothing but staying on this bed." She slowly rolled up the pant leg and began roaming over the inflamed flesh. Her movements were swift like that of a professional but underneath her touch lay an apologetic tone that could be felt every time her fingers brought about a pained hiss. She frowned during her inspection. "Your injury is much worse than I had initially thought," she supplied remorsefully. Slender fingers roamed over to the sides of the joint, cringing when she felt give that should not be and barely stifling tears when Carson gave a small, strained cry of pain. "I believe you will require," she paused searching for the word, "surgery to fix the damage."

_Of course I would, _Carson thought exasperatedly, leaning his head rather forcefully against the solid wood headboard then wincing from the brief spike of pain that followed. With a resigned sigh, Carson sat forward, his fingers following shakily along the same path that Lansiah's sure ones had previously trod. He had to bite his lip to refrain from crying out, groaning, or moaning and it took all his training to continue his little trek around the injured joint and not withdraw when every minute step brought something as close to agony as he had ever felt.

When he came to the same spot that Lansiah had reached, he couldn't staunch the gasp and groan the came out as his hands immediately flew away to rest on solid thighs that could take a hefty squeeze. "Aye, I believe you're right," he conceded in between pants.

Lansiah placed a soft hand on his calf, giving a small massage of comfort before she pulled away. "Very well," she answered standing up and placing a few pillows beneath his leg, elevating his knee. "I will go find the equipment needed to make a brace and some more ice." She walked up to the head of the bed, using her hands to brush hair off his face and run a longing hand down his cheek. "Get some rest while I am away."

Carson's eyes opened, crystal blue irises reflecting sadness at the loss of her company and curiosity. He had unconsciously closed his eyes and leaned into her touch when her hand ran down his cheek; he hadn't meant to but it had felt so good feeling her touch him. He watched her head toward the door to her room, slipping on her heavy, partially soaked, winter cloak as she went and asked, "Where are you going?"

She turned around, giving him a smile that brought a suggesting twinkle to her eyes and answered, "Outside of course."


	3. Breaking Boundaries

**AN: I just want to say a HUGE thank you to my beta and friend ladygris. She has supported me throughout this story and encouraged me the entire way. She's even made a banner for it! I absolutely love it! So this chapter is dedicated to her. :) **

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><p><strong>Part III<strong>

Lansiah returned from her trek outdoors with a red nose and cheeks, wind whipped hair and hands so cold she couldn't feel them. The storm had resumed its fury but she had recognized the signs enough to know that it, sadly, would not last. Despite what she had hinted early with Carson, the Hoan had actually gone out to visit a few neighbors for help. She'd remembered the elder woman Parsa had injured her knee not long after the Lanteans had found and helped them and had hoped she'd be able to borrow the brace and crutches that were no longer used. If it wasn't for the reason that Parsa was the almost exact same size as Carson, if not a bit heavier, then Lansiah wouldn't have bothered but she knew that no matter what she had at home, nothing would provide as much support and relief as those two items.

The snow ice packs that she'd been using would only be useful for so long before the joint would go numb and even still the bindings she'd be able to provide wouldn't do as well against movement as the brace would. As much as she loved having Carson in her bed, she understood that being forced to remain stationary too long would drive him mad and if he did not have any instruments to help him get around he would stubbornly try on his own, causing more pain and making everything worse in the end.

She arrived at home in time to hear a sharp intake of breath and a groan that could have been mistaken for a whimper. Instantly the Hoan placed the items where she stood not caring if they clattered to the floor loudly or not and raced up the stairs to her room. It felt as though her feet barely registered on the steps as she skipped two at a time in a hurry to get to her friend's side. She hadn't liked the sound of the pained whimper; it had torn through her heart leaving the muscle in shreds when its wake.

When Lansiah arrived at her room she heard the rustling of fabric that she could identify as her sheets then another gasp and groan. It seemed as though Carson was trying to get comfortable but wasn't having any success for the pain in his leg. Deciding she wouldn't be able to provide any relief empty handed she moved to the next room where his medical back pack was being kept and began rummaging through it until she found what she'd been looking for – bottles of pain medicine.

Though her own people did not use such items she had spent enough time with Carson to know that his people did. Over the time they'd grown close, Carson had also begun teaching her about the traditions of his people and the medical care he was used to giving. Sometime during each visit with her, he would take things out of his medical pack and explain, in great detail, every single one of them and their uses. It was through his patience that she'd known exactly what each bottle of medicine was. She hadn't quite been able to read what she'd learned to be English yet so she couldn't understand what was written on each of them in order to know which one would be useful.

Gathering up the hem of her skirt, Lansiah placed the two bottles into it, along with her own supplies, and then quickly walked back over to her room. She opened the door as quietly as she could, though why she wanted to be quiet since she'd need to wake Carson up was beyond her understanding, and silently crept into the room, depositing the bottles onto her bedside table next to the cold cup of tea. While she didn't mind drinking cold tea, especially in the warmer months, she didn't think Carson liked it and so moved to fill and reheat the kettle. The clanging of the metal must have woken Carson because when she turned around it was to find two beautifully blue eyes dulled by pain staring at her.

"Hello," she greeted with a soft smile as she walked away from the blazing hearth and sat down on the bed near his hip. "How are you feeling?"

For some reason Carson had the sneaky suspicion that this was a trick question. His knee burned with deep throbbing pain, sending it throughout the rest of his lower half in short, sharp pulses. Even pressure on upon the areas around the joint caused near excruciating pain, something that made the slightest bit of movement incomprehensible. Upon noticing that Lansiah barely had room on the edge of the bed, he attempted to do the unthinkable and scoot over but ended up as still as a frightened deer with his teeth grinding into dust.

"I'll take that as my answer," Lansiah replied getting off the bed. She grabbed both bottles of medicine and handed them to Carson, waiting until he chose one and dumped two onto his palm before taking them back and switching it out for the only source of liquid she had available – the cold tea.

While Carson took two brown pills, Lansiah moved down to the injured knee and began prodding and examining it as gently as she could. It hadn't been gentle enough however leaving Carson groaning deeply in his throat. She withdrew her touch quickly and turned to go make a fresh cup of tea by way of apology. Although the action was mainly to provide comfort to her friend via hot liquid it was also to hide the tears that had gathered in her eyes; she knew it was necessary to examine the injured limb but that didn't stop her from feeling horrible for causing him pain.

She did her best to stop her hands from shaking as she handed him a fresh cup of tea but it wasn't enough and soon she found inquisitive, concerned eyes staring into her own. She offered a hesitant smile but asked, "Are you feeling better?"

"Aye, I do. Thank you," Carson replied giving a grateful smile. The pain wasn't gone by a long shot but it had calmed considerably to a more tolerable level. He looked around before continuing, "I should give you back your bed."

"No, you will stay," Lansiah commanded more sharply than she'd meant. "I am sorry," she said in a softer tone when he raised surprised eyebrows at her, "but trying to move you would not be a good idea. Your leg cannot hold any weight and forcing it to do so would not only cause great pain but it would create more damage."

Carson wanted nothing more than to argue against the logical claims but the slightest movement sent burning agony throughout his leg so he was forced to assent. It wasn't that he didn't like being on her bed. It was extremely comfortable and the scent of her engulfed him in a warm, comfortable blanket that no cloth could compare but he felt horrible for making her have to take care of him, worry about him. He felt like he was a burden she shouldn't have to bear – she had enough of those already.

He fidgeted almost restlessly doing his best to get comfortable without actually moving too much. His body minus his knee was aching to move about the house but medically, he knew that wasn't likely to happen for some time. Blue irises turned upwards to focus on gray, tired ones and an idea clicked. Giving the open space of bed beside him a beckoning pat, Carson nodded his head to his left and said, "In that case love please come join me on the bed. You look like you've been up all night delivering a baby goat and ready to fall over with the slightest wind."

Lansiah hesitated for a moment not wanting to seem overly eager then slowly walked over to the empty side of the bed and crawled upon it. Out of instinct and lack of thought she curled up with him, wrapping her leg around his like a snake coiling around its prey. Normally she would have remained on the far side of the expansive bed but something called to her, drawing her to him as though he was from a tale of old and had placed a charm on her body and mind.

His warmth surrounded her completely as he wrapped his arm around her shoulders, pulling her as close to him as she could possibly be. She let loose a smile that he couldn't see when she felt and heard him release a contented sigh, his feelings mirroring her own in exactness. Unconsciously she snuggled closer to him, using her face to rub against his chest like a cat rubbing against its mate then exhaled a comfortable sigh of her own.

Nothing was said between the two for a full ten minutes, leading Lansiah to believe that Carson had finally fallen into a restful sleep. As much as it pained to her to do, she needed to exit the room and prepare a meal for lunch as well as the brace instrument, snow pack and some fresh water to drink. It seemed as though, however, that her body was no longer taking orders from her mind for when she went to move, her limbs remained locked in place, dead weight for all the use they were being.

"How much longer do you think the storm's going to last?" Carson asked finally, almost startling them both with the sheer volume of his voice in the near silent room.

Lansiah snuggled even closer doing her best to hold on to him though her answer would soon take him away. "No."

"Aye, that's good then," he said dolefully. When she froze under his arm, Carson expanded on his thought in hopes of providing assurance. "If it were to last too much longer I believe you and I would be put into uncomfortable positions." When she looked up at him with something akin to fear in her eyes he continued. "As much as I trust ya lass, I don't want you havin' to operate on m'knee. The storm ending will bring Colonel Sheppard and a way back to Atlantis so that they can repair the damage done." He chewed on his lip in thought before he threw caution to the wind and said what he was fully thinking. "If it would be alright, I would like to come back here while I recover."

The air left her lungs so quickly Lansiah thought someone had knocked her to the ground. He wanted to stay? Here? With her? For months? Words failed her in an attempt to express how happy that idea made her and it took a great deal of restraint to stop herself from throwing her body upon his once again and hugging the life out of him. Instead she settled for slowly drawing herself up to a sitting position, trying to slow her breathing and calm her frantically beating heart all the while, and stared at him. She gazed for what felt like eternity – an eternity that she would give over and over again – getting lost in the deep blue irises that held such apprehension and hope that she felt the same emotions welling from within her own breast until her heart could no longer be controlled and her breathing was as erratic as his.

Placing a hand on the side of his face, using her thumb to rub gentle motions into the skin, she gave him a smile as wide as she could and responded, "I would love for you to stay with me while you recover."

* * *

><p>Out of the sheer need to get off the planet, John had Chuck check Hoa again. Happy didn't accurately describe the joy he felt at being able to get off Atlantis, elated was more like it. Thanks to his side injury he had been all but grounded. His latest trip to Hoa had been his last thanks to Elizabeth's sisterly over protection but he knew that she wouldn't say no to him if things on the planet were clear and there was little chance of trouble.<p>

The gate dialed and the blue wormhole appeared lighting the room up like the Christmas it was and soon the connection was made. The MALP went through the gate and the screen flickered to life showing an extremely snowy terrain worthy of the old Hollywood movies but clear skies and easy visibility.

"John," Elizabeth's voice prompted from behind him making him jump slightly in surprise. It shouldn't have shocked him since her office was right by the gate but for some reason he hadn't remembered that she was there.

"It's clear," he announced straightening to his full, Colonel height and hiding a wince when the stance tugged on his injured side. He waited with a signature smirk for the words he'd been wanting to hear from the beginning to come.

"Alright. You have a go."

* * *

><p>Dishes cluttered in the kitchen as Lansiah threw together what they'd need to consume their evening meal. The afternoon had passed in complacent calm with most of it having been spent with the pair of them curled up in the bed with one another. By some form of silent agreement both Carson and Lansiah had remained silent about their current tradition of cuddling, choosing to simply enjoy the comfort and feel of one another instead.<p>

Sometime during the quiet of the fading day, Carson had begun talking about the happenings on Atlantis, the foremost being what his people called Christmas. Apparently it was a tradition that celebrated a time of year that was remarkably close to the Winter Festival upon Hoa. She didn't fully understand what the holiday was about but her friend had managed to – rather unwillingly she believed – relate just how special a time it was to him and how he longed to share it with family.

Lansiah was not naïve enough to believe herself to be family for her friend but she understood the comfort that close friendship could bring. He didn't know it but Carson had brought her the same relief that wonderful night so many months ago. Lansiah had felt as though she'd been barely alive, floating in and out of her daily routine while leaving nary a trace that she was there. It was a dull, dead life and when loneliness had managed to all but strangle her, she'd imagined what it would be like to simply let go completely.

During her stay on Atlantis Carson's constant ministrations and visits had breathed new life into her blossoming from the desire to get to know the healer better and thriving from there. She'd been what she'd been told was a difficult patient and had only allowed him to see to her, care for her but she hadn't cared unless her decision directly affected him. At times she could see exhaustion upon his handsome features when he obviously tried to hide it and that was when she knew she was effectively spreading him too thin and needed to allow others near her. It hadn't been an easy decision but the pain that struck her every time she saw his tired, and sometimes pained, face was worse than the discomfort that radiated from her injuries.

Just before she'd been released from the city Carson had come to the quarters she'd been provided while she recovered wearing a sheepish smile and a handsome blush. He'd politely requested to be allowed to visit her back home to check on her. Though he'd used the excuse that he just wanted to make sure her injuries were healing well, she had a feeling there was more to it than that and gladly and gracefully granted his request telling him that one of the elders would give him directions to her place when he needed them.

The mechanical clatter of the crutches brought her out of her thoughts and memories to the doorway where Carson was maneuvering himself into the expansive kitchen. There was sweat upon his brow and deep pain in the familiar eyes showing just how much the move from her bedroom downstairs had cost him belying the smile upon his face.

"Dinner smells wonderful Lansiah, what have you made?"

Pleasurable shivers ran down her spine at the sound of her name on his tongue but she quickly contained them choosing to turn around and walk over to the spit in the fireplace instead. "Roast Plathas***** with peppers, potatoes, carrots and leaves," she answered while she carved the plathas.

Carson cringed at the thought of leaves but he kept a smile plastered upon his face as he ventured, "And plathas is?"

"I believe you would call it," she paused to find the word, "chicken. I have several in the cellar as stock for the winter as well as Hathas*****, Cochas*****, and Karthas*****."

"And those would be?"

"Oh, um turkey, duck, and a form of pheasant. Several of the men enjoy hunting during the summer and autumn months. Usually they bring home too much so their wives give the spare to the rest of us for the winter." Lansiah walked back to the main portion of the kitchen where the solid table in the center stood and placed her platter of plathas on top of it. Flitting around like a kitchen wench in an assembly room, she proceeded to gather the rest of the meal as well as a plate.

Carson observed Lansiah with an awed amazement. Silver blue floated in between pale wood drawing his attention to the dress she was wearing. While his mind wondered when she had changed his mouth asked, "That's a lovely dress. Have you worn it before?"

Lansiah stopped her flitting and turned around to face her friend, a deep crimson covering her cheeks that had nothing to do with the heat radiating from the kitchen. "No," she answered before her nerves got to her and she felt the overwhelming desire to move again. She went back to preparing the meal, grabbing goblets for the special drink she has prepared. "It's meant for special ceremonies and privileged meetings so I do not bring it out often. My father traded his skills as a cook to a traveler for several months just for it. He gave it to me shortly before he died."

Her hands trembled with emotion as she brought everything to the table and the tightness within her throat told her she was fighting back tears of pain and memory. She didn't know how long she'd remained locked within her mind but it wasn't until she felt strong but gentle arms wrap around her, spinning her so that she faced the center of his chest. A small part of her mind noted that while it wasn't very broad it was the perfect size for her. Just as tears started streaming down like a slow flood, she buried her face into his chest and wrapped her arms around his waist, scrunching the fabric of his shirt beneath her fingers.

Time seemed to disappear while she stood there wrapped in the safety and comfort of him, crying out the pain in her soul and it wasn't until he awkwardly shifted and a groan rattled throughout the confines of his lungs that she remember he shouldn't be standing at all and quickly drew away in favor of moving to his injured side. Despite the quickness of the movement she'd had enough time to notice that he hadn't been standing on his right leg at all, choosing to lean his right hip against the sturdy table for support instead. It lessened the guilt on her mind relatively but she was still upset with herself for making him have to do that at all.

While she resumed and finished gathering the meal, Carson painfully hopped over to the stool he'd vacated and gingerly lowered his body upon it making sure to be fully seated before putting his right foot on the floor. The overall position was not comfortable for him and it sent sharp white hot pokers of pain throughout his leg but since he didn't see any other form of seating in the kitchen he stifled his discomfort and patiently waited for his host and friend to come sit down.

"Here," Lansiah's voice sounded from behind him and he turned around to see her surrounded by three chairs. Though the table itself was fairly high, Carson could tell that the chairs would be tall enough for them to sit upon while they ate and relief flooded through him washing upon his face.

Once they were both settled Lansiah brought out the plate that was meant to serve both of them and began loading the separate halves. On Carson's half she place the most succulent of the meat and the best cooked of the vegetables while on her own she piled on the rest.

"What's this then?" Carson asked touching the plate as he did so to show he meant the dish and not the portion.

Disappointment briefly flowed through her at his lack of concern towards her eating health but she wiped it away with a mental hand and gave him a smile a she patiently explained the dish. "It's called a Tracharas*****. It's a tradition among my people to share a meal this way during times of celebration and when you mentioned your Christcas," he smiled warmly at her mistake but didn't correct her, "I thought now would be the perfect time to use it."

Crystal blue eyes roamed over the table in general as Carson processed the information and a plan formed in his mind. "Very well. I suppose we should eat before it gets cold," he supplied lightly pretending to look around for something before he added, "Where's the tea?"

"I did not make any," Lansiah answered surveying her table as well. She almost sighed with frustration when she realized that while she'd brought out the goblets, she had completely forgotten the drink itself and stood up quickly to get it.

When she returned it was to find Carson slowly putting a helping of vegetables into his mouth, offering her an apologetic smile for not waiting as he chewed. She stole a piece of his meat as his punishment and slowly chewed, savoring the flavors as she opened the bottle and poured out a crimson liquid full of vibrant smells and earthly tones.

She passed a cup to Carson who took the offered drink and tentatively sipped it before taking a bigger drink. "This is good. Is it wine?"

"A form of yes," Lansiah answered placing a generous helping of meat into her mouth and chewing before completing her reply. "There is a wine-smith within the village that often goes abroad to other villages and planets, using wonderful combinations of them all to come up with his own."

As she took another big bite of her meal, Lansiah looked own in surprise to find that she was in fact eating the portion she'd given Carson. He laughed heartily when she looked up at him in amazed accusation and simply offered a shrug before he completed his own portion, effectively stopping her from changing things back.

There was nothing more that she wanted right now than to kiss the man before her for being so perfectly wonderful but she restrained herself, hearing her father's voice in her head telling her to always let the man take the lead. She settled for a long, lingering kiss on his cheek before she started cleaning up, ending the motion with a sensually whispered, "Thank You."

* * *

><p><strong>*Plathas – chicken<strong>

***Hathas – turkey**

***Cochas (coachas) – Duck**

***Karthas - pheasant**

***Tracharas (truh-kar-us) - Trenchers which was a type of elongated plate in medieval times.  
><strong>


	4. Dawning Realization

**Part IV - Dawning Realization  
><strong>

Silence surrounded him as he walked through the empty halls of Atlantis. Nothing could be heard except the faint buzzing of the city in the back of his mind reassuring him that she was still there and that only he, Carson, and Lorne could hear.

John turned the corner, nodding at one of the marines on patrol hoping he hid his surprise at seeing the man as he passed. It had been a few days since he'd gone to Hoa and had 'rescued' Carson. If it hadn't been for Carson's need for knee surgery, the Colonel would have just left him where he was. Heck, he might have even joined him! Being stuck on a snowed-in planet was preferable to being stuck on a floating city – at least the planet was new and exciting, relatively. As much as he loved Atlantis, the military commander was finding himself feeling more and more cooped up there the longer he stayed.

When they'd located Carson's subQ on the HUD the team sans Rodney weren't at all surprised to discover that he was staying with his friend Lansiah. They all knew he had an attraction to the woman and none of them blamed him. The team as a whole had walked up to the wooden door, knocking loudly in case the people within were busy and couldn't hear them then waited in the cold for an answer to come.

Lansiah had answered the door somewhat hesitantly but quickly changed her demeanor when she sew who it was that was calling, opening her door wide and inviting the small part into the warmth. When they'd asked about Beckett, she'd given them a small frown which none of them had liked then said that he was upstairs. She quickly went on to explain about their friend's injured knee and the extent of the damage they both believed he had suffered making them all frown in concern. Over the years they'd learned to trust Carson's field judgment so if he believed he needed surgery to repair his knee then he did.

There had been a brief discussion about how to get the injured doctor down the stairs and out into the jumper and the conversation had only ended when Ronon had simply rolled his eyes, went upstairs and scooped a very surprised and indignant Carson into his arms then walked back down stairs. He'd placed the injured man onto a small couch giving each person in the room a look of, "Any more questions?"

The Satedan was gentler with the last stage of the trip. Although Carson hadn't said anything, every single person in the room could see just how uncomfortable, how painful it had been for him to be moved in such a way. While Ronon may seem uncaring on the outside, he had a heart as big as Atlantis with a special place in it reserved for the Doc. Knowing that he had hurt his friend had caused pain within him but he'd hid it behind a stoic mask of indifference while he'd transported the injured man out to the awaiting jumper.

Atlantis' infirmary came into view, the open doors inviting anyone in that needed to be helped. The smell of antiseptic and sterilization assaulted his sense of smell making his nose wrinkle in disgust while he looked around in search of his friend. He gave a small smirk when he noticed Carson trying to order his staff around like the CMO and devoted work-a-holic he was while being restricted to the infirmary bed. "Aye and make sure you-"

"-get an arterial blood gas test. I know Doctor Beckett. Believe it or not all of us here are in the medical profession. We do know how to do our jobs. Now please stop trying to do them for us and gets some rest." Mary, a well experienced and even better trained doctor gave an impatient sigh and walked away from her boss' bed, throwing John a look that clearly screamed, "HELP!" as she went about her duties.

"Hey Doc, how are you feeling?" he asked as he bounded up to the Scot's bedside.

Carson, who had been sitting upright in bed while trying to essentially work, jumped at the chipper voice of Colonel Sheppard. He turned his torso to get a look at his friend, wincing when it pulled on his braced knee. "I'm feeling good Colonel. How about yourself?"

"I'm good. It was great to get off-world for a bit and I'm looking forward to doing it again. Speaking of which, I hear that you want to spend your recovery back on Hoa with Lansiah."

"Aye I do. If I remain here I'll end up working whereas if I rest there I will actually rest." Carson shifted uncomfortably in the bed, trying to give his stiffening body a chance to stretch while at the same time not moving his right leg. He'd been taken off the stronger of the pain medications earlier this morning and he was slowly beginning to feel every stitch the orthopedic surgeons had put in.

_Sure you will, _John replied in his head while giving his friend and indulging smile. He inhaled deeply then walked around to Carson's left side so that it as easier for him to look at John during the visit. John was no stranger to surgery and painful injuries so he knew almost exactly the best ways to keep the patient comfortable during your visit and planned on doing just that. Going by the flustered nurses and doctors on Carson's staff, the physician had been micromanaging ever since he'd become lucid after the anesthetic and if he had to guess, the Colonel would say they could all use a break.

"So when are you busting out of here?" he asked with a mischievous grin. If there was one nickname that John had earned, it was the Houdini of the Infirmary. Not quite as catchy as something like The Phantom of the Opera but it had a ring of truth to it that the musical title didn't. No other patient on record had as many escape attempts as he did and none had as many successes either.

Carson laughed warmly causing the crows feet in the corner of eyes to wrinkle. "I believe I'm working m'way to earlier release than they had planned."

"Yeah I noticed Mary was getting a little snippy with you there. I'm surprised you didn't threaten her with big needles like you do the rest of us," John teased with a fake hurt expression upon his face.

"Ah, unfortunately when the people you're trying to threaten also have access to big needles and are in charge of your health, it doesn't work quite as well," Carson admitted with a sigh. He shifted again when his previously new position had begun annoying his aching, cramping muscles and made a mental note to request more comfortable beds for the long-term patients when he was allowed to work again.

John chewed on his bottom lip in thought before silently getting up and going over to Mary. Carson couldn't tell what the two of them were talking about but if he had to guess by the emphatic arm movements he would say that it was about him and a request that the stern doctor wasn't happy about. His mouth dropped open in shock when she released a loud, warm laugh and continued to watch with curiosity growing in him.

It didn't surprise him that Colonel Sheppard had managed to make Mary laugh. His charm and personality were easily strong enough to tear down Melancholy Mary's defenses even when Carson's well known charm had not.

The Colonel returned with a wheelchair, two strong orderlies, and a self-satisfied grin on his face. "Road trip," he announced at Carson's questioning glance then proceeded to wait patiently while the two male nurses helped ease his injured friend off the bed and into the awaiting chair.

Once Carson was settled on the chair with his right leg elevated and supported by pillows, John grabbed a standard infirmary blanket, tossed at Carson who proceeded to casually place it over himself, then started heading towards one of the far, less populated reaches of the city. While he walked he reached up and activated his comm. "Chewie, you busy?"

"Nope," Ronon's gruff voice answered simply, succinctly.

"Good. Meet me at my office will you? I'm gonna need your help."

"On my way."

The radio linked disengaged leaving John and Carson quiet, the only sound being the wind whooshing passed their ears. The Colonel was careful to take things slowly as could be over bumps to avoid jarring Carson's healing knee but otherwise his pace rivaled that of a price stallion in a race.

"No offense Colonel but I don't think watching you do paperwork is exactly relaxing," Carson intoned trying to fight of the shivers he was getting from the brisk, cool breeze as it flew around them.

"Good, I don't want to do some paperwork," John replied shortly but not unkindly.

"But you just said-"

"-it's not that kind of office Doc."

If Carson hadn't already been curious he would definitely would have been now. Where could the lad be taking him and what did he need help with?

They stepped into the nearest transporter then stepped back out again after John had pressed a spot on the screen, exiting onto a wide inviting balcony overlooking the westerly seaside of the Atlantis base. An overhang shaded the oasis in the early morning and afternoon but afforded the most spectacular view of a sunset the new planet could provide in the evening – a sight that the two men were earlier enough to see.

The balcony itself was expansive but cozy. Its shape was that of a rectangle being ten feet wide and fifteen feet long. Situated in the corner were two lawn chairs of good quality with a cedar chest in between serving as either a makeshift desk or a drink holder, whichever the user required most at the time. To the right of the door lay a faux driving range that Carson knew John used whenever he had a day off and a set of golf clubs. He thought the Colonel usually stored the equipment on the lower decks where it was easier to swing but he guessed he was wrong.

John gave him a proud smirk before parking the wheelchair and walking over to the chest, opening the lid with a squeak as the hinges protested then pulled out two comfortable looking cushions. He placed the pillows over the lawn chairs, securing the strings to the wooden frames where it was necessary to make sure they remained while the user come and went as they pleased.

Ronon appeared carrying a case of beer and a glimmer in his eyes. He gave his friend a broad smile and head nod before handing him a bottle of Sam Adams then turned his gaze upon the Scot. "Hey Doc, how are you feeling?"

When Carson didn't respond right away John came over to where the Satedan was standing, both men making sure to stay out of the way of the glorious view, then announced, "Welcome Doc to my office." He paused for a few minutes to let the theatrical presentation sink in before he nodded his head at Carson, addressing Ronon the entire time. "Come on Chewie. Help me get him onto the chair."

Carefully as they could they removed his right leg from its elevated position, John holding on to the pillows while Ronon offered a supportive shoulder, then hauled him out of the uncomfortable piece of medical equipment. Ronon patiently waited for Carson to get his bearings before he slipped under Carson's right arm, all but carrying him over to the lawn chair closest to the wall.

With a gentleness not often attributed to the Satedan, Ronon lowered Carson onto the chair, silently making sure the cushions were fluffed enough to offer support as well as comfort. While Ronon pushed the chair to the opposite corner where it kept the golfing equipment comfortable, John carefully slipped the supportive pillows back under Carson's leg, elevating his knee and providing a small amount of pain relief at the same time.

Beads of sweat now appeared on Carson's brow. The overall exercise of getting him from the wheel chair to the lounging chair had been tiresome to say the least but worse still was the pain it had caused to his strained knee. He knew the Colonel had been as gentle as he could over the many bumps of Atlantis' tiled floor but each new jar sent waves of pain throughout his leg, pulsating in steady rhythm with his heart. Foolishly he'd tried to lower the limb to the ground when Ronon had been helping him across the balcony resulting in agony that he couldn't even have begun to express.

The sound of a pills rattling around in a bottle and the crinking sound of a bottle of water that was being handled by hands that could crush it without further thought brought Carson's pain filled eyes into focus on his friends. John stood above him measuring out a dose of prescription strength pain medication while Ronon grabbed the water from his coat pocket and opened it. One handed the pain relief while the other provided the means to wash it down then went about making themselves comfortable as well.

For a long while none of them spoke, each enjoying the feel of the cooling sea breeze on their skin and the small warmth the fading sun brought upon their skin. Carson released a sigh of happiness, shivering slightly when the breeze sprang up tickling his exposed flesh through the thin mesh blanket. The warmth of weight settled around him as Ronon placed a thicker, more comfortable blanket around him then went back to his place on the ground.

"Thank ye lad," he said at last breaking the comfortable silence with heartfelt words and another sigh of relief. This was just what he needed and somehow the Colonel had known it. He leaned his head back against the lounging chair and closed his eyes, focusing his mind on nothing at all, content just to listen to the world around him and the sounds of Ronon and John breathing evenly beside him.

Pain continued to pulse from his knee bringing his mind's attention to that. It was curious how much he actually felt the pain of his injury now that he was home and away from Lansiah. While he'd been staying with her the pain had been great indeed but it hadn't been anything at all compared to what he was feeling now or the pain he felt every time he saw her cry. Somehow just being around her had made everything better.

The loneliness he'd felt every day since coming to Atlantis had lessened considerably while he'd been in her presence and even the agony of a very badly sprained knee had been tolerable enough with the young woman around. His heart gave another ache but it wasn't the same compared to what he normally felt. This wasn't the ache of a soul that longed for its home in Scotland, it was the pain of a heart that longed to be with its mate – a mate that he'd found in the strong, capable, loving, beautiful Hoan girl.

Realization dawned on him like the slowly rising sun over a mountained valley, creeping along the sharp ridges of his resistance then pouring into his heart, flooding it with warmth.

"Got there yet?" John's voice asked bringing him back to reality. It had taken a few minutes for his brain to understand that not only did he have the broadest grin a man or mythical creature could bear, but this had been the reason John had brought him here. He'd known Carson's feelings for the girl but he'd also known that Carson needed some peace and quiet to be allowed to figure them out.

"Aye Colonel, I think I have," Carson assured still wearing the smile.

"'Bout time," Ronon intoned jokingly, leaning over and giving Carson a gentle punch in the shoulder.

The move jostled Carson causing the pain to renew in his leg for a brief moment before it settled back down again but he didn't care. It was nice to finally understand just how much of a family he had here on Atlantis and though he would be saddened to leave them for as long as he had planned, he couldn't wait to get back to Hoa and see Lansiah again.


	5. The Return

**Part V – The Return**

"Ye are not gettin' me on tha' bloody thing!" a very stubborn Carson announced loudly while he stared cross armed at the hard-backed stretcher in the jumper. He'd been arguing against its use ever since they brought it out and his accent had been getting thicker and thicker until they barely understood him. Thankfully since he'd been repeating the same thing over and over, coming close to sounding like pirate's parrot as he did, they knew exactly what he was saying.

"Carson you must at least when get to the planet," Teyla answered striving to keep hold of her patience. John had long since given up trying to convince their stubborn friend of the necessity of the ugly device and now stood off to the side leaning against the jumper with his arms crossed and his eyes glowering angrily at the man in the wheel chair. "Doctor Mary has said it is not wise for you to attempt walking around in snow."

"I don' care, I'm not gettin' on tha' thing."

By this point in time Ronon's patience had long since evaporated making the big man step up to the chair then kneel before it so he was on eye level with the Scot. Though his stance was yielding his very aura pulsed with annoyance and intimidation. "It's either you use the backboard or I'll carry you in there, which is it?"

As much as the idea of just how badly it would hurt to be carried Ronon's way, the idea was much more appealing than being carried about like he'd been in a horrible accident. On the other hand he was beginning to feel horrible for causing such a fuss and that more than anything began to sway his opinion. He stared at the challenging brown eyes before him and soon relented, "Aye, alright."

"Great now that that's done, can we please go?" John pushed against the jumper and walked in not bothering to wait for an answer. He was known for having a great deal of patience – he did deal with Rodney on a daily basis after all – but today it had been stretched thin before disappearing completely.

He sat at the jumper controls going through his pre-flight checks while he listened to the sounds of Teyla, Carson, and Ronon loading themselves onto the machine behind him. He heard the tell-tale sound of crutches hitting the grated floor and for a moment he wanted to turn and watch his friend with a close eye to make sure he was alright but his mind quickly reminded him that he was still annoyed and Carson was fine.

Carson slowly made his way into the jumper, seating himself behind John's chair with his leg stretched out before him. It wasn't an ideal position given the length of the trip but it was safer for him in the front with seat belts and his leg down than in the back with no restraints and his leg up. The sound of the crutch tips hitting the metal floor sounded loudly throughout the small space and Carson gave a grimace as another step jarred his body reverberating especially through his injured knee.

He saw John sparing several glances at him through the Colonel's peripheral vision and was tempted to say something each time - a thank you for helping, an apology for being as stubborn as a bairn and just as loud, just something to help ease the tension he felt bouncing off the man before him. He spared a quick look at Teyla and Ronon and watched with an appreciative smile as they gave each other a look and then quietly exited the jumper to give him a few seconds' time alone with John.

"Colonel-"

"How many times do I have to tell you to call me John?"

"As many times as I have to tell you to call me Carson I suppose," Carson answered immediately with warmth in his tone. He smiled when he saw John smile in response. "Lad, I just wanted to apologize for my behavior out there and to say thank you."

John spun the pilot's chair around, careful not to bump Carson's extended right leg with it, and stared at his friend giving nothing away in his face, eyes or demeanor. Only once he noticed the doctor start to fidget in nerves did he break out a smile and laugh, wincing when a brief sharp pain in his side reminded him not to do that. His hand automatically snaked over to the injured portion and wrapped around it protectively. "It's okay Doc, I understand. I wouldn't want to arrive on that thing either."

"Are ya alright Colonel?" Carson asked, his physician eyes noticing the guarded movement.

"Yeah just forgot for a moment. Teyla, Chewie you can come back in now," John called loudly, his voice echoing through the metal machine. He waited until the last two members of the mission were on the jumper and in their seats before he mentally closed the rear hatch and began his take off. "Let's get this party started."

"John please remember to be careful," Elizabeth's stern voice cut in through the com sounding loudly in the small space. "Carson, feel better soon and be careful as well. We don't want you coming back worse than when we left you. Got it?"

"Aye, Elizabeth, will do. Let me know if ya need me."

"We'll be fine, Carson. Just rest and heal. Have a safe trip everyone."

The four of them chimed a synchronized, "Bye!" before the gate activated and John flew the jumper straight through leaving the sparkling city of Atlantis behind.

* * *

><p>The first thing they noticed was that no one had mentioned the wind that threatened to knock them off course and into a sturdy looking brife tree. Carson groaned when his leg hit against the pilot's chair, pulling on his knee with brief excruciating force but held on tightly to the arms of the chair when the jumper continued to tilt to their left.<p>

John winced with slit eyes at the sound that came from behind him but turned his full concentration to the machine that was threatening to lose control and spiral to the ground. The ship wasn't fighting against his instructions, in fact it was doing everything it could to follow them, but the wind was making it incredibly difficult to keep it steady resulting in jerking motions worthy of a roller coaster ride.

The HUD popped up showing him the wind pattern. It was as though the machine trying to suggest that he either fly under or above it instead of straight through it and John wanted nothing more than to listen. Unfortunately flying under the wind wouldn't work – it was too close to the ground and they'd never make it through the growth of trees that surrounded and occupied the planet. Which left them with going straight up and down as Carson had once done when Atlantis was under siege by a storm and a small group of angry Genii.

They exited through the atmosphere of the planet, their breaths hitching at the sight of the beautiful nebula that lay fifty thousand miles beyond the planet. Their eyes reflected the blues, purples, and reds of the collection as they stared at it unable to tear their vision away. Everything was so quiet up there, so peaceful that for a moment they all forgot the reason for coming up – a problem that was righted by John turned the jumper away from the nebula and back down towards the planet, inching the jumper further up before going straight back down to land.

Once again wind attacked the jumper, throwing it this way and that, tossing the occupants within about like they'd been put in a massive washer that was currently kneading the clothes to get the dirt out. When a particularly strong gust slammed into the ship causing it to buck left then spin, Carson found himself immensely grateful that he wasn't the type to get motion sick and that the bloody aircraft had seat belts.

The jumper finally landed with a skipping hop upon the ground making a decent sized indent upon the earth. Thanks to the inertial dampeners the Lanteans within the ship didn't feel much of the bouncing with the exception of jarring shakes whenever the machine impacted with the hard surface of the planet.

Panting breaths echoed throughout the jumper as each member attempted to slow their breathing from the adrenaline rush of the rough journey. Fastest of these were Carson's breaths which were coming out quicker than most through tightly clenched teeth. The constant harsh strikes of his legs against the grated floor had put a lot of stress on his knee making the dull throb from before become white-hot throbbing of agony.

"Doc, you okay?" John asked, concern softening his eyes and dripping off his tone like a leaky faucet. Once his world had stopped spinning, the Colonel had looked around at his companions wanting to make sure they were unharmed. He found himself unable to confirm any such thing when his vision landed on the doctor.

Carson didn't know if he could even make a sound at the moment so he settled for a rather weak nod, mentally wincing when he felt wet tears fall upon his face.

"Here, Carson," Teyla soothed handing him a does of his prescribed pain medication and a bottle of water. It hadn't taken her as long as John to notice the pain the doctor was in so she'd already been ready with relief by the time John had asked. Her heart ached for her friend, in so much pain he couldn't speak, but none of it showed on her face as she patiently waited for him to hand back the water.

Carson greedily took the pills and sucked down the bottle of water. His jaw ached from having held it together so tight and he swore that if he were to do that again his teeth would break. Somewhat impatiently he waited for the fiery agony to calm within his knee so that he would be able to get off the ship and into Lansiah's cottage. His knee gave another excruciating twinge as a spasm attacked the muscles and he quickly stifled a sound of pain.

When he was confident he could move without crying out in pain, Carson released a sigh of relief and reached for his crutches only to be stopped by Ronon's massive hand.

"Board," was all the Satedan said but it was more than enough for them all to understand what he meant.

"He kinda needs those to get to it Chewie," John chastised slowly with a smile. Now that Beckett wasn't in so much pain he found he could begin to make light of things again.

Ronon's hand didn't release the instruments and Carson gave a heavy sigh. He knew what the big guy was waiting for and he really didn't want to have to say the words that would make it happen. He hung his head in defeat and asked, "Ronon would ye mind carryin' me inside?"

"Oo-kay, did I miss something here?" John asked, his voice pitching at the height of his sentence.

"The wind is too strong to carry Beckett on the backboard. One gust could take it out of our hands," Ronon answered logically as he stared at Carson with apology in his eyes.

"Should someone go tell Lansiah that we are here?" Teyla asked still standing beside the doctor. She walked to the front of the jumper then peered out the window. "It seems as though another storm is coming. I believe it would be prudent to take refuge until it has passed."

John and Ronon bent to duck and look out the window as well, frowning when it appeared that Teyla was right. Dark clouds had begun to blow into the sky bring the promise of even more snow with them. The wind was following the clouds' lead and began blowing even harder when they arrived, pushing more in.

"Okay. Teyla, go tell Lansiah that we are here while Ronon and I get Carson ready." The Athosian nodded then opened the hatch, exiting quickly into the roaring wind. The hatch closed quickly by John's command leaving the three men in the jumper alone.

While Ronon helped Carson up and to the back where he could rest for a few minutes, John gathered some basic supplies and first aid, packing them into a pack and slinging it onto his back before he grabbed Carson's one suitcase. The Scot had managed to pack quite light considering how long he'd be staying but at this point in time, John wasn't complaining. The lighter he packed, the easier it was to carry. He hooked the pair of crutches under his free arm then looked at the other two.

When it seemed that everyone was ready, Ronon gently scooped Carson up carrying him like a damsel in distress and holding him tightly to his chest to protect against the wind. John released the hatch and the three went out into the wind, trying to protect their faces when it roughly whipped around their exposed skin, biting it with the cold.

Thankfully the visibility was clear but the wind was so strong it kept knocking them slightly off course, making the group keep having to right itself every few feet. They finally made it to the porch, one last gust threatening to force them backwards and onto their butts, and knocked on the door which opened immediately admitting them entrance into warmth and safety.

Lansiah stood in the middle of her living area, arms over her chest looking as though she were hugging herself against the cold. She watched Colonel Sheppard walk in first carrying what seemed to be a brand new set of crutches and two traveling packs. Ronon entered next carrying a rather frazzled and pained looking Carson in his arms.

He was cradling the physician close to his chest with a gentleness she hadn't yet seen the big man express. It was obvious that he was being as careful as he could not to harm his friend while he protected him from the vicious wind. She noticed that he chose to carry Carson so his right side was against his body, protecting it from sudden gusts and making him easier to hold on to as his right hand clenched the left leg.

Teyla closed the door behind them and the sound of the wind died as quickly as it had come. The only sounds within the house were the crackling of the fire and Ronon setting Carson down onto a couch. The heat from the blaze was welcome to them all and for a while the group stood in complete silence just absorbing it into their frozen skin.

"Where do you want these?" John asked breaking the quiet in a low voice, holding out the crutches and suitcase to demonstrate what he meant.

Lansiah gave Carson a glance, smiling slightly when she noticed he was blushing, and waited for an affirming nod before she answered, "Upstairs please. The big bedroom."

"I think I might need the crutches if you don't mind," Carson called stopping John just before he reached the stairs. Lansiah didn't know it but the blush wasn't from the decision to take up residence with her in her room, it was from just how nervous he felt when he was around her. Now that he understood what exactly he felt, the Scot was finding it hard to remain his normal calm, caring self and had to keep frozen still in order to refrain from fidgeting.

Now it was Lansiah and John's turn to share a look, one that Carson could not read at all. When the Hoan gave the Colonel a nod, John turned to look at Ronon, jerking his head in the direction of the second floor. Before Carson had a chance to ask what was going on, the Satedan had gathered him in his arms again and bounded up the stairs with laughter from everyone else trailing him. He was careful about how heavy his feet landed, having been aware that the slightest jar caused Carson pain, and now seemed to glide up the stairs and over to Lansiah's room.

Ronon carefully deposited the doctor onto the bed, making sure to grab a few spare pillows that lay at the bottom of the mattress and place them under the injured leg before he stared evenly at the man, gave him a pat on the shin then left to re-join his group. He came down to find John asking Lansiah if the village had any extra lodgings they could rent.

"I am sorry, we don't," the girl replied gently, handing each of them a mug of something that smelled good. "But you are welcome to stay with me until the storm has passed. It is not safe for you to go back out there now."

The Satedan stifled a scoff and looked out the door window, bringing the mug to his lips and drinking deeply as he studied the outside. Indeed the girl had been correct. The wind hadn't died down and was now threatening to break branches of trees while a new dusting of snow was starting to fall from the sky and frost began to form around the colder parts of the jumper. Brown eyes roamed over the small living space wondering where in the name of Sateda they were going to sleep.

"Would it not be too cramped?" Teyla asked curiously, gently voicing the opinions that he and Sheppard were thinking.

A beguiling smile crossed the girl's face almost enchanting him with its brightness but she simply answered, "Of course not. There is a spare bed upstairs in the room next to mine and a cot down in the cellar. You and Colonel Sheppard are welcome to the bed and Ronon may sleep on the cot." She turned to face him and added, "Of course we will take the cot out of the cellar first."

A very Sheppard-like of course flitted into his head but instead he chose to remain silence. He'd learned long ago that silence was the key to keeping out of trouble and keeping those you love out of trouble as well. Ronon knew that Carson loved this girl but he wasn't entirely sure about her yet so he chose to look at this as a way to observe her both alone, with his friends and, more importantly, with Carson.

John gave Teyla a side-long wary look earning a smile from the Athosian. Only when he received a nod of permission did he reply, "Sounds great," with a smile that was both friendly and fake.

"Good. I will go and freshen the linen of the bed and check on Carson. Do you wish for something to eat while I am gone?"

"I don't but I'm sure Chewie here will."

Lansiah turned her attention to Ronon. "I am afraid I do not have much but I could get you some bread, cheese and fruit." When he remained silent she shrugged and went to gather a small plate full of food. She handed it to him with out so much as a word then headed towards the stairs.

"Would you like some help?" Teyla asked not wanting to sit around and do nothing.

A groan that tore at their hearts sounded from her room and Lansiah looked at Teyla with grateful eyes. "Yes thank you. I believe I will be busy with a certain stubborn patient."

Everyone smiled returning her sentiment and offering empathy. When she turned and headed up the stairs, she smiled in fondness when she heard three sets of footsteps follow her. Clearly Carson's friends were concerned and wanted to check on him. It wasn't necessary. She knew that moan quite well. He'd moved wrong and bothered his knee, it was a common thing that had happened quite a few times during his brief stay with her but she understood that they didn't know that.

They reached her door where she stopped and pivoted to face the Lanteans. "I understand that you would like to see Carson but for right now I think it best that you settle in yourselves. I shall need to examine him and get him comfortable. Both tasks will be hard on him and I believe he would like some time to compose himself before he sees you all again. I will let you know when he's ready to see you."

Recognizing the polite explanation for the dismissal it was, the group hesitated a moment then complied with the request, each member filing into the spare room next to the one Carson was in. She smiled when she saw them each throw a concerned look at her door before they entered and closed their own door behind them. With a shake of her head and an indulging smile she opened the door.

Carson looked up at her as she entered, face frozen in shock and child-like embarrassment. His torso was twisted as he tried reorganizing his own pillows, his right leg was lowered off its supportive pillows and hanging half off the bed in order to help accommodate his upper half. He had the decency to blush as she crossed her arms and looked at him with a sternly raised eyebrow.

"And what are you doing?" she asked accusingly trying to keep a smile from lighting her face. Her heart skipped a few beats when he gave her a smile full of blush and apology. Something in his demeanor had changed but she couldn't put her finger on what.

When he didn't answer she sighed and walked up to him, grabbing his calf and placing the leg back on the bed on top of pillows. He winced as she moved him but didn't argue with the treatment. She walked closer to the head of the bed and took over the fluffing he'd been doing when she'd entered. She slammed the pillows against the headboard when she was finished then waited for him to begin scooting back against them.

She sat down on the edge of the bed by his hip trying to calm her frantically beating heart before she spoke. It felt as though someone else was controlling her body when she reached out a hand and caressed his cheek, reveling in the feel of his smooth skin beneath her fingers. He leaned into her touch, tilting his head so that it leaned totally on her hand and closed his eyes. Her cheeks burned with heat as she softly asked, "How are you feeling?"

Carson's heart gave a couple stutters at the sound of pure loving concern in her voice. It encouraged him in his own feelings towards her. He grabbed her hand in his and brought it to his lips before giving her a warm smile, "Better."

* * *

><p><strong>So what do you think so far? Hm? Come on, you can tell me. Click that little link down there that says review. I promise I'll be eternally grateful! :) <strong>


	6. Family and Arguments

**Part VI**** – Family and Arguments**

John, Teyla, and Ronon sat in the spare room spread out comfortably within it, watching the fire blaze in the hearth and allowing their thoughts to wander. The room itself was cozy while still managing to be expansive. Across from the door sat the queen size, four poster bed made of solid wood and beside it sat two accent bedside tables, one supporting a three-stick candlestick holder and a Hoan book, the other empty atop.

To the right of the doorway stood a high top dresser with stained cherry wood and five drawers. On top sat another three tier candle holder and a couple pictures. Since this planet didn't have the technology to create still images the three friends surmised they were Carson's and moved over to look. There were quite a few of them sitting in cluster and a couple of his mother. There was one of him and Rodney and one of him with a little girl they'd never seen.

The stone hearth with a blazing fire in it sat across from the bureau lending bright firelight to the room and brightening the shadows. The room itself was about twelve feet by twelve feet being both spacious and small compared to the expanse of the owner's.

John and Teyla sat on the bed while Ronon spread out in a chair that sat unassumingly in one of the corners. No one on Atlantis knew that the team leader and the Athosian had slowly begun a relationship; no one except for their closest friends of course. It had surprised them when Lansiah had suggested they share a bed, they hadn't thought that Carson would have told her, but since the offer wasn't a bad one and they were intruding on the Hoan's privacy they weren't going to point out the curious fact.

A cry of pain sounded from the room next to them and immediately they were on their feet, ready to defend whoever was hurting but when a soothing murmur echoed through as well they knew that Lansiah had been doing what she said she would – examining their friend. There was no doubt in any of their minds that it was painful for the doctor but they were curious about why it was necessary. Did she not trust the doctors on Atlantis? Was she worried that further damage had been done between the time they'd left and the time they'd arrived? They knew that she didn't want to cause Beckett any additional pain so they knew there had to be a reason, they just couldn't figure out what it was.

After thirty minutes of sitting around, John and Ronon grew anxious. They needed to get out, walk, run, explore, get into trouble – anything other than doing nothing. But with the storm raging outside and picking up in strength they were pretty much stuck where they were. Eventually curiosity won out and the two men left to go explore the small cottage that was to be their home until the earliest possible moment.

They went down the stairs to the main level to be surprised to find Lansiah standing in the kitchen covered in feathers and slipping a bird on a spit with such ease most men would be jealous.

"Hey Lansiah, whatcha makin?" John asked friendly enough as he and Ronon walked into the kitchen. Their jaws nearly dropped to the floor when they discovered that the room was half the size as the upper portion of the gateroom. Once he'd gotten over the shock, John looked at the Hoan quick enough to see a smile on her face before it was wiped away. "Exactly how big is this place?"

"I believe you would be surprised by just how big my home actually is," Lansiah answered politely. Gray eyes focused on Ronon briefly before they returned to their task. "I believe you and your friend are getting, what is the word, claustrophobic?"

She walked over and tried to place the metal rod onto the cob irons but struggled with the weight of the multiple animals on the spike. A heavy hand landed on her shoulder, startling her before it took the bar out of her hands and put it where it belonged, managing to place the birds directly over the fire where they would cook evenly. She then returned to the island table where she began preparing the vegetables and bread. Since she was hosting a larger group full of people she wished to impress, she had decided to bake two fresh loaves of bread instead of serving the older ones.

When she began kneading the dough, Lansiah was surprised to find herself pushed out of the way as John took over. She didn't know if he actually knew how to make bread from scratch the way she did but she was willing to let him try so that she could prepare the vegetables and grab the cheeses and wine. Deciding that she might as well get the other one to be useful she paused in cleaning the potatoes and looked at him. "Ronon, would you please go down to the cellar and grab the cheese and a bottle of wine? The entrance is over to the right of the hearth."

Ronon raised an eyebrow at her but left to do what he was told. John watched his friend go with a smile on his face. "You do know that sending Ronon down to grab something as cultural as cheese and wine is like asking Carson to repair a Wraith hyperdrive right?"

Lansiah smiled at his comparison. She'd been on Atlantis long enough to what a hyperdrive was and that if you asked the medical doctor to do anything out of the realm of his knowledge he'd explode in your face with an argument about his profession and lack of skills. She actually laughed when she imagined their absent friend's, Rodney, reaction to the mere idea that Carson be allowed to try to repair anything within the scientific field.

"I do but I believe he will find something interesting while he's down there. It may help soothe his Runner's spirit."

"How did you know he was a Runner? Or that Teyla and I were together for that matter?" John was currently waiting for the dough to rise before he placed it in the pan that had been sitting on the island table from the start.

The Hoan offered a warm, affectionate smile. "Do you believe that Carson and I do not talk while he is here?" John offered a shrug, fighting a smirk at how easy it was for her to call the doctor by his given name. "He speaks of his friends, of how each of you met and how much he cares about you all. I believe he is very homesick and being on Atlantis, finding a new family has made that burden easier to bear."

Speechless wasn't something John was used to being but at the moment, hearing just how much his family back on Atlantis means to Carson, struck him dumb. It occurred to him with no little amount of shame that he'd never given any thought about the doctor, how much he'd actually left behind and that he felt just as alone on the huge city as John did.

"Hey," Ronon greeted, his demeanor suggesting he'd heard enough to feel as ashamed as John does. He deposited a couple blocks of cheese and an amber bottle of wine. He looked at Lansiah, "Did you know you have a set of tunnels down there?" Lansiah smiled and John laughed. "What?"

"She said you'd find something interesting down there. I guess you did," John supplied while he tried quieting his laughs.

Ronon looked at the Hoan, "You knew I'd look?"

Lansiah shrugged and bean cleaning some leaves. "I know that you are restless here in my small home and guessed that you would do some exploring of your own once left to your own devices. I merely supplied you with the time to do it."

The Satedan regarded her with for a moment before giving a nod then left. John rolled his eyes and replied, "That's 'Thank you, I appreciate it' in Ronon speak."

"There's no need to translate Colonel, I understood him." Her words were sharp, biting but her tone was soft and inviting. "Ronon and I are not as different as you, and he, believe."

John pondered her announcement as he loaded the bread onto the pans and put them into the hearth on the stone shelf that served as an oven shelf. He realized that he didn't know much about the girl other than what he'd been able to glean from her actions and statements and what little he was able to get out of Beckett.

"Something smells delicious," Teyla's gentle voice intoned announcing her presence.

"Thank you. With the help of Colonel Sheppard and Ronon I believe we will have a decent meal prepared." Lansiah placed the potatoes, squash, eggplant, and kale into a pan and placed it on the opposite side of the bread, spreading some herbs found in the forest over them before she left. She walked over to Teyla and continued her thought from earlier. "You and your friends are welcome to dine here but I do not believe it would be advisable for Carson to attempt coming down the stairs of yet so I will be dining with him."

Teyla looked around at her two friends then faced Lansiah once again. "Would it be alright if we joined you? Carson will be here for quite some time and we would like a chance to say good bye before we go."

"He will not be gone that long," Lansiah supplied confused by her tone of speech. It sounded as though she believed he would not be returning at all. The sadness in her voice sounded true and it occurred to Lansiah that if ever Carson were to leave Atlantis for good, it would break the small, close-knit family's heart.

"No he will not," Teyla admitted, "but he is very dear to us and we will miss him none the less."

"Speak for yourself," John interjected with a small laugh hoping to break some of the depressing undertones in the air.

The Athosian smiled adoringly at him but did not reply. She kept her gaze on the Hoan silently waiting for her answer.

Lansiah smiled warmly at the woman. If she'd been more of a physical person she would have chosen that moment to offer her a hug but she preferred to be left to herself and therefore wasn't comfortable with physical touch, the exception of course being Carson's touch. "I am sure he will be delighted to have you join him. I believe he already misses his friends back on Atlantis." She turned around and addressed the one person whom she knew knew how to roast meat. "Ronon, would you please keep an eye on the meat and take it off the spit when it is finished? I am going to go check on Carson for a moment then we can gather things for dinner."

Ronon gave her a nod of acknowledgment, the twinkle in his eyes indicating the happiness he felt at being put in charge of something as important, to him, as meat. He waited until she walked out then proceeded to crack a wide grin at his friends.

"Calm down there Chewie, don't let the responsibility to go to your head," John chided warningly as he checked on the bread. He didn't know much about baking but he knew that when the top was brown, it was done. He looked around for something to withdraw the bread with. When he found a set of tongs by the fireplace, he shrugged and used them to awkwardly take the hot pans of bread out and put them on a thick wooden cutting board. It was thick enough to serve as a barrier between the hot cookware and the table and the toasted coloring that covered it suggested that's what it had been used for.

When Lansiah returned, Ronon had taken the birds off the fire and John was gathering the vegetables which were emitting a wonderful aroma. "Everything looks wonderful, thank you gentlemen."

"How is Carson?" Teyla asked knowing that John and Ronon's egos didn't need anymore boosting by continued conversation of their achievements in the kitchen. If someone were to suggest that she was jealous by just how well they could cook she would have denied it but in truth she was. It did not seem right that Colonel Sheppard and even Ronon could cook better than she.

A frown appeared on the Hoan's face for a moment before the previous smile returned but the sadness still remained in her eyes. "His knee is hurting him quite badly. I believe the storm is having an adverse effect on the joint."

"Why doesn't he take some pain medicine?" Ronon inquired saving both John and Teyla from having to ask the very same question.

"He says that it makes him tired and he does not wish to miss dinner." Lansiah moved toward the cooling food and began assembling it on three tracharas. She placed as much food on Ronon's as she did the others which were meant for two people rather than one. Through their many talks, she had learned that the bigger man had quite the appetite.

Once she'd finished she handed each male a plate and took the one for herself and Carson leaving Teyla to grab the bottle of wine and the glasses. They made their way up to the room, each filing in offering smiles to their friend on the bed before they spread out and began to settle in.

A table that was usually used as nothing more than decoration was placed into the middle of the room between the bed and the fireplace. Three chairs sat around it and two, three tiered candlesticks sat atop the table adding light to the already lighted surface. A tray similar to that of a TV tray back on Earth sat in an empty space on the bed next to Carson.

The three friends seated themselves at the table while Lansiah proceeded over to the bed, placing her plate on top of the tray before moving it to cover Carson's lap.

"Well isn't this a party," Carson claimed happily as he watched everyone file in and get comfortable. Despite the smile on his face, his friends could see the pain in his eyes. He sat on the bed, leaning against the headboard. A blanket covered his lap but it did nothing to hide the injured and swollen right knee that was covered in an array of bruises.

"We thought we'd join you and liven the place up," John replied pretending he didn't notice that the doctor was no longer wearing the knee brace. He'd had knee surgery himself a time or two. He knew how painful the entire process and recovery was not to mention how wholly uncomfortable the brace itself was. Any time that he could sneak away from watchful eyes and release his leg from its bindings, he did.

"Aye, I bet ya did," Carson granted before he began picking at the meal he'd been provided. The food looked wonderful and he wished he could eat it. Unfortunately the pain in his leg had made his appetite disappear long ago leaving him with an unsettled feeling in his stomach.

"You're not hungry are you?" Ronon asked picking up on how little the doctor was actually eating. He was familiar enough with pain to understand the reason for his lack of appetite, it had happened to him more times than he wished to remember. It seemed as though his stomach was determined to make up for the absence and it now growled at him while he continued to stare at his friend's uneaten food.

"No, I'm afraid not," Carson answered with a heavy sigh, placing the fork down onto the tray with a wooden _plunk. _He looked at Ronon, laughing briefly at hungry look in his eyes. Wanting to make sure that someone else in the room didn't want if before he turned it over to Ronon, Carson looked at Lansiah asking, "Are ya not eating love?"

"I'm ate earlier Carson but thank you. Ronon would you do me the favor of eating it?" She knew that the Satedan was still hungry and it was true she was not. The food might as well not go to waste and since the other man wanted it, she figured why not give it to him. She hoped that by making it sound like _he _was doing _her _a favor it would help ease all their guilt about just how much he was actually eating.

Ronon gave a small smile then reached out a long arm and picked the tracharas off the tray, swiftly digging in the moment the wooden plate hit the table.

When it seemed that everyone had filled themselves, Lansiah decided it was time for them all to rest. It was still early yet, despite the dark sky outdoors, but she knew the lull of full stomachs and the ink black sky outside would trick their bodies into resting earlier than they normally would.

"Alright everyone," she announced over the current round of laughter bringing everyone's attention to herself. "As much as I would love for you all to stay up sharing stories, I believe it is time for us all to get some rest."

"Aw, come on," John whined sounding pathetically like a five year old whose parent has just told them to go to bed. "Just a few more minutes."

Lansiah laughed warmly at the child-like attitude and she proceeded to sound like the adoring parent. "I am sorry Colonel but Carson needs his rest and so do the rest of you. The storm shall have quieted down by the morning and I am sure your friends back on Atlantis are worried about you."

John opened his mouth to argue some more but Ronon stood up and hauled him out of the chair while Teyla interrupted whatever he was about to say with, "I believe you are correct Lansiah. We are quite tired and we have an early morning." She walked over to Carson who would have been asleep by now if it wasn't for the fiery pain in his leg. "Sleep well Carson. We will come see you in the morning before we leave and say good bye."

"Aye, good night Teyla. John, Ronon."

"Sleep well Doc," both men returned before they followed Teyla out the doors and to the spare room. They were surprised to find that the spare cot had been brought in while they'd been gone and for a few minutes actually wondered out loud when Lansiah had had time to bring it in. Soon their bodies began to relax the conversations slowly halted and each team member fell into comfortable, sleepy silence.

The knowledge that they were going to leave their friend behind for some time weighed heavily on their hearts but there was nothing to be done about it. Carson was happier here, even despite the pain he was in, than he was on Atlantis and it was better for him to be in a place that didn't have a medical emergency every hour. They all knew that even if he was taken off duty, the doctor would find some way to try to continue working and here, on Hoa he would not be able to do that.

Ultimately it came down to two things. One, it was his decision where he wanted to be during his time off, and most importantly, he was happy here. His happiness meant more to them than their own sadness and their consciences quieted down with that knowledge, finally allowing them all to rest.

* * *

><p>The next month saw many changes in Lansiah's house. Colonel Sheppard, Ronon and Teyla had departed the next morning. They'd stopped in to see Carson for a good hour before they left, each giving him some action of fondness and love before they exited for the last time in the coming months. It had been hard to see such sadness in Carson's face as he watched his friends leave but the smile that had crossed his face when he focused on her had made her heart beat wildly and her pulse race.<p>

She rose early, often times before Carson himself was awake, and prepared breakfast for herself and Carson. They often ate with quiet chatter punctuated by bursts of laughter as his natural humor came to the fore, softening her usual nervousness with his pleasing manner. His initial embarrassment faded into something that made her pulse rise with every glance of his sapphire eyes, and she knew she wouldn't be able to hide her reactions to him for much longer. Though he pretended ignorance to her feelings, Lansiah knew that he had noticed them and more importantly that he felt them as well.

At first it had been the little things he'd done. She'd catch him watching her passing figure with the appreciative eye of a husband when he thought she wasn't looking making pleasurable shivers run through her spine. Often she'd have to stop herself from adding a bit more sway to her walk but other times she couldn't help herself but indulge in his attention.

Other time it was in the gentleness of his touch, the soft, unnecessary but not unwelcome caresses that would land upon her hand, the small of her back, her arm or even her face. She couldn't stop herself from smiling every time he touched her. It felt as though several suns had exploded within her veins lighting her nerves with such fire that never seemed to burn. Tingling after effects of the explosion would continue for several minutes, sometimes days after the touch had long faded which was then replaced with such longing her heart and soul ached.

For his part, Carson chafed at being confined to the bed. He'd tried arguing with her against it several times with no avail. At first, the pain in his knee dictated that he remain as still as possible so he did not aggravate it. The pain medications that Dr. Miroshi had given him made him drowsy, as did the winter weather outside with its shorter days and longer nights, often leaving him asleep before Lansiah had had a chance to clear away the latest meal.

He didn't particularly care for the medication's side effects so he tried to get away with taking it as little as possible. For awhile he actually managed to fool Lansiah but she began to get suspicious when he'd bite his lip with every movement he made when he shouldn't be feeling more than a dull ache. When she'd confronted him about it, he'd given a heavy sigh while his cheeks darkened with rouge in embarrassment at being caught but he had answered her heated accusation honestly. She'd responded as gently as she could, lecturing him that he needed the relief and rest so he could heal. No matter how much it killed her to see him in pain, he'd somehow managed to leave out the part where she needed him to find relief as well in favor of deferring to his pride, not wanting to shame him or give herself away.

But, as he began to regain more movement in his knee, they both realized that he couldn't lie here, in Lansiah's bed, all day no matter how much one of them wished they could. Carson Beckett was an active sort of man and the weeks of bed rest had made him restless and eager to escape the confines of her room.

One morning while she was gathering breakfast a squeak reached her ears making her freeze so she could listen for the sound again. She had befriended a stray cat so she knew she did not have mice but she didn't know what it could have been either. When she heard two even thumps followed by another, softer thump she knew what she'd heard and immediately dropped her knife and went upstairs.

She found Carson just about to head downstairs and stopped him by placing her body in the way. Sweat had formed on his brow and his cheeks here rising and falling with the quickness of his breathing as the strain of movement took hold. Seeing how tired the short trek from her bedroom to the stairs made unpleasant images of him falling down the staircase and hurting himself more flash before her eyes and causing her heart to race. She'd never before understood a mother or wife's need to be over protective of those in their care but with how much fear that filled her heart at the moment of imagining made her realize she did now.

"What do you think you're doing?" she asked as calmly as she could manage, her own chest rising and falling just as quickly as his.

Carson looked up in surprise. He hadn't expected her to meet him at the stairs and body-block him from going down. Shocked blue eyes met blazing gray ones and for a moment Carson couldn't breathe. The sheer amount of heat, anger or otherwise, and the way it both melted and hardened the steel in Lansiah's eyes was amazing. He knew he should be answering her but for the lack of air getting to his lungs while his mouth hung unattractively open, he couldn't. "Lansiah, I-"

"-get back in bed before you hurt yourself," she commanded so sharply that if her tone had been a knife it would have sliced through gold.

Carson didn't respond right away too taken aback by how harsh she sounded but eventually indignation, anger and impatience at his own inability surged through his veins bringing out his reply. "I'm not going to hurt myself by goin' down the stairs. I know that you like to coddle me but I'm not fragile."

Hurt clouded Lansiah's eyes replacing the anger and concern that had previously been there and tears formed covering the gray irises like a thin sheet of glass. Had she really coddled him like one would a helpless child? She hadn't thought she was. Had she over stepped some invisible boundary that he hadn't told her about? Her mind screamed 'no' but her hurting heart said 'yes'.

She lowered her head so he couldn't see the tears that had begun to spill down her cheeks; she'd cried in front of him enough for her lifetime, she didn't need him thinking her weaker than he already did.

"I am sorry," she apologized as evenly as she could, inwardly wincing when her voice cracked on the words 'I' and 'sorry'. "If that is how you've been feeling, I will cease." She spun around to exit the uncomfortable hall where she felt her presence was unwelcome but his voice calling her name stopped her. When she turned around she didn't bother hiding her amazement when she saw tears in his own eyes and proceeded to wrinkle her brow in confusion.

Carson stood frozen where he was. His knee was beginning to throb painfully from the lack of elevation and his left hip and leg were beginning to ache with the added strain of the extra body weight but he didn't dare move. To move would be to signal the end of the argument and as much as he wished for that to be, he couldn't leave things like they are, not when she was capable of escaping his presence for hours.

His breath hitched in his chest with every inhale and his mind quickly worked to discover when exactly it had begun to hurt to breathe. The memory of pain filling stunning gray eyes and tears pooling in them flew across his vision and smacked him in the head with it, burning the image into his mind. Yes, that had been when every single breath had become torture to perform. Her shamed apology full of hurt and betrayal had driven the final stake through his heart making it stop for a few seconds until his brain demanded it start so he could open his mouth and stop her leaving.

Now she stood before him, head bowed and tears streaming down her angelic face and he couldn't bring himself to even move. He stood frozen by fear and nerves, unable to decide how to fix things. Every nerve in his body screamed "make things right!" and suddenly Carson knew exactly what was needed.

He painfully made his way over to Lansiah who looked for all the world like a scared rabbit ready to bolt from the hunter and stopped in front of her. Their bodies were so close they could feel each other's heat, smell each other's smell and hear each other's shallow breaths but they didn't touch.

Carson deposited his crutches against the nearest wall, lightly placing down his right foot whenever he needed help balancing, and pulled her into a huge, apologetic hug. He wrapped his arms around her neck, brushing out her hair in a soothing manner before he lowered them to rub her back and make the embrace more intimate.

"I'm sorry, love," he apologized sincerely, his heart clenching at the thought of the pain he'd caused. "You have made these last four weeks heaven when they could have been purgatory on Earth." He knew that Lansiah didn't understand the phrasing but he hoped to God that she understood his meaning.

His right leg came back down when he felt himself tipping over and the fierce burn of pain searing through his knee made him gasp and hold on to her tighter but he refused to release her for fear of her running away and never coming back. The pain from his injury was worth this precious moment. He felt her pull away but remained where he was, keeping his hold loose but firm as he stared down into watering eyes and a tear stained face. The air left his lungs for the umpteenth time but soon the organs recovered, allowing him to offer one last reply. "I am so sorry. I don't want to lose you."

Lansiah's heart leapt to her throat making it hard to swallow, reply or even breathe. Did he just say that he didn't want to lose – her? That couldn't be. Nothing this good every happened to her, nothing. Her mind raced with the implications of his statement and the possible ways she could be twisting the words around to hear what she wanted but most of all her mind acknowledged that he deserved a response. She had felt his heart fluttering as fast as a hummingbird's wings and knew that he was as nervous as she was elated. No matter how upset she was at him right now, she couldn't leave him with the agony of not knowing her reaction.

Slowly she pulled away, offering an encouraging half smile when his face molded into a deep frown, and handed him his crutches. She silently stood by, moving out of his way and giving him a choice of where he wanted to go. When he heaved a great sigh then turned around to head back to her room she felt both joy and sadness. It made her relieved to know he would not be attempting the stairs as of yet but his weary admission of defeat hurt because it meant that he was hurting enough not to attempt it.

Quietly she followed behind him, preserving her voice until it was strong enough and the time was right.

Carson growled out a moan every time his healthy leg met with the unforgiving flooring. Agonizing pain greeted him with every step he took and as much as he wanted to, he found he couldn't stifle the sounds of pain that escaped his mouth. Instead he chose to turn the earlier anger that had so easily come out of his mouth and used it to express the pain through a growl. It wasn't a loud growl or a very menacing one but it did manage to help expel every ounce of frustrated agitation he felt over his own limitations.

By the time he finally made it to the bed every muscle in his body ached from the strength he'd used over the past thirty minutes and he ended up groaning more loudly than he'd meant to when he lowered his body onto the bed. His breath hitched when his right leg landed too hard on the edge of the bed, hitting a tender spot behind his knee but he soon let it out through clenched teeth and began moving so he could sit up on the mattress but stretch out as well.

Lansiah watched her friend's movements with a concerned eye but made no move to help. His remark about her coddling him still stung and her pride reminded her heart that if he needed or wanted help, he'd ask for it. She winced when she saw how easily his hurting leg had hit the side of the bed, the cushioning mattress beneath it giving way and ending where the hardwood began, and it took all her strength not to run to him but stand away she did.

Only when she saw that he was as settled as he was going to get did she move to the bed, swiftly replacing his empty glass with a full one before she sat on the edge close enough to his torso that she didn't jostle his leg. His warmed hand covered hers and squeezed making her look up at him. The pain in his eyes had dimmed but wasn't gone leaving enough to cause her heart to ache. He nodded with his head in the direction of the empty spot on the bed and gave her arm a tug but she quickly released her limb from his grasp and stepped away.

"I'm sorry, I cannot," she announced not missing the disappointment and resignation in his eyes before he lowered them to gaze upon a blanket. The disappointment she could understand but the resignation intrigued her. Does he view her refusal as punishment? Does he believe that he deserves this punishment? _He does,_ her injured heart cried loudly before she could brush the thoughts aside.

She placed a soothing hand over his, returning his earlier squeeze before she pulled away again. "After breakfast, we can move you downstairs if you like," she suggested as though he were a young boy that she was trying to cheer up. "But only if you feel up to it."

Carson didn't reply. He gave her a nod to show he heard but he couldn't find any words to acknowledge her with. His mind felt blank as if he had been working three shifts in a row and it could no longer provide information. Exhaustion curled around him threatening to put him to sleep then and there with the strength of its coil and he leaned his head back so he could rest his eyes. He knew he shouldn't give in so easily to the sleep his body was demanding but he couldn't bring himself to hold his eyes open any longer.

When a furious pounding began behind his eyes, Carson gave up and allowed his eyes to remain closed and his mind to wander and empty. Soon his breathing had evened out and he was asleep before he realized it.

Lansiah watched her friend as tiredness came upon him, knocking him to the ground with its force. She knew he was spent and had been patiently waiting for the moment when he would give in and rest. It hadn't taken as long as she had thought owing to just how tired he was, and before long he was gently snoring and the creased lines in his face soothed.

She bent down and gave him a kiss on the forehead then left to finish assembling breakfast. Originally her plan had been something simple since she could tell he was anxious to get moving again but now that he was sleeping, she changed her mind and decided a nice bit of oatmeal would do. It would take long enough to make that he would get enough rest but it would not be so long that it would be time for lunch before she had it made.

The sound of her footsteps retreating was barely there as she walked out of the room and down to the main floor, quietly disappearing from sight. She slipped into her kitchen and down to the cellar where the oats were waiting to be rolled and cooked while upstairs Carson began to dream of ghosts silently leaving his room.


	7. A Prelude to a Fight

**Part VII**** – A Prelude to a Fight**

A knock sounded on the door drawing their attention away from each other. Lansiah and Carson looked at each other wondering who it could be but didn't move to get it. Things were still a bit rough between them and they were currently trying to explain how they felt while not actually talking about it. It wasn't going well to say the least and the unexpected visitor only made them both annoyed at the interruption.

Carson had ended up sleeping for the better part of the afternoon leaving Lansiah to her thoughts while she went about her day. Her mind had spent the entire time arguing with her heart about what was real and what was not. The hurt of Carson's words and implied meaning still stung and as much as she wanted to believe his apology, a part of her couldn't. She felt as though some part of her trust had been violated and she was extremely reluctant to hand it out again.

After he'd woken they'd had a dinner of stew and bread thrown together from the meal that had been left over the night before. Unlike their normal meals, this one hadn't passed in comfortable chatter and longing glances but in uneasy silence and wary watches. Soon they began talking, the conversation started by Carson, and the suffocating feeling in the room eased as truths were admitted.

She confessed just how hurt she had been by his anger and indignation earlier in the day and she was surprised to see his eyes well up with tears while he listened. When it was his turn to talk, Carson did so without reservation and, after taking a good long while to apologize profusely for hurting her, had poured out a small portion of his soul to her. He talked of his feelings during his stay with her, both the good and the bad. It was during this talk that the two had finally admitted their attraction to one another and while it had been overly done on both parts it had served to begin healing things between them and moving their friendship into a new direction – courtship.

Once she'd had things cleaned up from dinner, Lansiah had stood patiently by while Carson slowly made his way down to the main floor. His movements had been quick at first, the physician was eager to see new scenery even if it was just the living room, but soon the speed slowed to a more comfortable level. She watched him with anxious, concerned eyes, images of him falling and becoming more injured kept tormenting her until he was seated on her two-person chair that sat before the fire.

She had had to force him to raise his leg upon the empty space and stretch out. At first he'd argued against taking up so much room, wanting to make sure that she could join him if she wished, but eventually the pain in his leg had won the argument for him and he had placed across the length of the chair with a deep grimace.

Unable to see him hurting as much as he was, Lansiah had immediately gone back upstairs for his pain medicines and a couple of pillows. While he'd taken the pills, she had elevated his leg upon the pillows then went outside to grab a bit of snow to sooth the annoyed joint until the tablets dissolved and relief was felt.

They currently sat across from one another, Lansiah curled up in her big chair and Carson stretched comfortably out on the long chair, watching each other and waiting to see if the person would go away.

Another knock sounded and Lansiah knew she'd have to get up to get it, tickling Carson's bare left foot as she went. Giving him an impish grin, Lansiah opened the door to find the old man Garleth standing on her porch. He held his had between his hands, wringing it in nerves and his eyes lit up when she answered.

"Garleth, what brings you here?" she asked warmly as she moved to allow him entrance. Garleth was an old, dear friend of her family's. He and her father had been best friends as boys and had continued their friendship throughout the years until her father's death had ended things. Even still she knew that Garleth had formed a friendship with her out of loyalty to his best friend at first but the more he had visited, the closer he had truly become to her. She shut the door behind him, patiently waiting for him to gain feeling in his extremities again before he finally answered.

"Sascha is sick," he explained nervously. His ice blue eyes trailed from her around the room to where Carson sat and he let out a breath of disappointment when he noticed the position the physician was in. "I was hoping Doctor Beckett could take a look at her."

"I'm sorry sir but I don't think I can," Carson admitted grudgingly. Snow and ice was tricky enough to walk through when you have two good legs. For someone who had one good leg and crutches, it was a very bad and foolish idea to even attempt it. Disappointment in himself tore through his heart at having to tell the villager he couldn't help. He felt as though he should be able to push through and ignore his own well being but the human mind is designed to protect itself and the body and was not giving his muscles any command other than "stay where you are".

Garleth nodded sadly. "I understand," he answered and he truly did. While many of his people believed the man to be something close to a god, Garleth was not so foolish. He knew that the doctor was a man bound by the same restrictions of the body as the rest of them.

"Lansiah could go in my stead though," Carson offered hoping the girl didn't mind him volunteering her.

"I am sure she will be fine," Garleth answered politely not wanting to offend either person by straight out declining. "It is just a cough."

"In this weather a cough could be bad enough," Carson answered while trying to sit up straighter. He winced when his knee gave him a shot of pain and lectured him not to do that again.

"He does not wish for me to help," Lansiah supplied filling in the blanks for her clueless friend. Although Garleth hadn't said those exact words she knew what he was thinking. His wife Sascha was the most important person in the entire collection of stars. As much as he trusted Lansiah, he didn't want to chance her health in the young Hoan's hands. She smiled and the warmth of endearment and adoration spread through her when Carson's brows furrowed and his gaze grew cold. Was he actually offended for her?

"Garleth, I assure you that Lansiah is every bit as good a healer as I am. I trust her judgment and skill and I have put my health and life into her hands without hesitation. There is no reason for you not to do the same. If you trust my knowledge and ability then you should trust hers. Lansiah will accompany you to check on Sascha. If she feels that things are beyond her talents as a healer then we will try to see what we can come up with but I have every confidence in her and so should you."

Lansiah was struck speechless. She had had no idea that Carson had that much trust in her and that knowledge more than any apology he could ever give helped to heal the damage that had been done by the argument.

During Carson and Garleth's talk she had moved over to stand beside Carson and now she placed a hand on his shoulder and gave it a squeeze to let him know that she'd received his message. He placed a warm hand atop hers and squeezed back but soon dropped it as he continued to stare at Garleth, silently challenging him to argue.

"Very well," Garleth replied apologetically when he realized he'd not only insulted Lansiah but had somehow insulted the doctor as well. Old ice eyes roamed over the protective stance Lansiah had taken beside the doctor, observing the way she held her hand on his shoulder as he had done many times to Sascha. He saw how Doctor Beckett reached up and gave her hand an assuring squeeze. Yes, there was more between this couple than mere friendship. He turned to look at the young woman, deciding to trust the Lantean doctor's assessment of her. "I will wait for you just outside."

"Thank you, I will be there shortly," Lansiah announced with a tone that was usually found in much older women. She waited until he exited then moved around and sat down on the long chair, her body opposite from Carson's so she was facing him. "Thank you," she said earnestly grateful.

"I meant every word of it," Carson responded with such honesty that Lansiah knew he meant it.

Feeling as though words were not strong enough to get her feelings across, Lansiah leaned in and did the one thing she'd been longing to do for five weeks. Her lips touched his and she felt her heart stop completely as stars exploded before her closed eyes. Tingling spread from her lips to every single area of her body and for a moment she forgot to breathe. The kiss had been chaste at first but soon she found herself pouring all of her feelings into it, wrapping herself around his neck the longer she went.

Garleth's reminder knock on her door drew them apart and when she pulled away, Lansiah was pleased to see her own disappointment reflected in Carson's beautiful jewel blue eyes. She turned around and grabbed a blanket she had made last winter, placing it upon her friend before tucking it in around his legs and hips. "Get some rest. I am sure the medication you have taken is starting to take affect and I do not know how long I'll be gone."

"Aye I think I will," Carson assured for her peace of mind. Truthfully he didn't think he'd be able to sleep right now even if he was in a coma. His heart was racing with each frantic beat gleefully yelling "she kissed me!" as it went and his nerves felt pleasure trace along them like nothing he'd ever felt before.

"Good," she responded with a smile. She quickly got her things together and slipped on her winter cloak and boots. Before she left she added, "And please stay off your leg. I know that you want to move about but I am still unsure it is ready for too much strain."

"I'll be fine love," Carson said, touched at her level of concern for him and her level of understanding of him. Another knock sounded, this time more impatient, and Lansiah offered a smile before she walked out into the cold night, leaving Carson alone with his thoughts.

* * *

><p>Carson sat on the sofa, his mind bouncing between sleep and thought. The feeling of Lansiah's lips on his had kept reinserting itself whenever he tried to rest, bringing his dulling nerves back to life with renewed pleasure each time. He honestly couldn't count exactly how many times he'd wished to do that over the past five weeks. After fifty he just stopped counting and settled for the fact that he may never get the opportunity.<p>

His heart had broken for Lansiah so often today that it had spent the day in shattered pieces, barely able to beat. For a while during their silent meal, Carson had run through the events of the afternoon, playing and re-playing everything that had happened and one thing that struck him was that when he'd been allowed to venture downstairs he hadn't chosen to. It was odd since his desire to do so was what had started the whole argument in the first place but he soon figured out that his heart and body were reacting and deferring to Lansiah's feelings and fears for his safety. He realized that by going back into his room, he'd shown the Hoan a form of respect but he didn't know if she'd noticed it.

That was when he decided that he needed to tell her almost everything he'd been feeling. The only thing that he had left out was how dearly he loved her and that was because he wasn't sure she was ready for it at the time. But if anything, her kiss just now proved she'd always been ready he just needed to show it more.

Immediately his mind went to work on thinking of ways to express just how much he adored her and it instantly came up with the main, big thing. Respect her feelings and concern for him. Don't push the boundaries because he was too stubborn to listen to his body.

A knock sounded on the door, bringing Carson out of his thoughts. For a moment he thought about answering it but Lansiah had told him to stay on the couch and rest his knee and at the moment that sounded like the perfect thing to do. However the person at the door would not be deterred and ended up pounding on the door, yelling through it, "Lansiah I know you're in there, please open up!"

Bugger, he wouldn't be able to get rest with the lad yellin through the door. With a deep groan he lowered his legs and grabbed the crutches that were leaning against the outside of the stone hearth. He slowly made his way over to the door, grumbling a mumbled, "I'm comin', I'm comin'. Keep your breeches on."

He opened the door to find a man of John's height standing at the door. His shoulder length, dark ebony hair hung loosely around his face, giving definition to a normally bland face. Cruel looking dark eyes peered out from behind long lashes, calculating whether or not he was worthy of talking to and a slight sneer of the lip told Carson the man thought he looked weak. He had the height of Colonel Sheppard but he had Ronon's build: broad shoulders, thick arms and hands that looked like they'd done some strangling in their time.

"Who are you?" the man asked as though he were royalty being forced to mingle with commoners.

"Doctor Carson Beckett. Who are you?" Carson returned feeling foolish that he's trying to be authoritative while on crutches. He didn't know why but for some reason he felt like he had been weighed, measured, and had been found wanting.

"Rosha Macara. I am here to see Lansiah. Is she here?" The man, Rosha, announced his name like it was a title and not a designation. His chest had puffed out more than a little and his shone down with a look that said, 'bow before me'.

"No she's not I'm afraid. She's gone to check on a patient." Carson shifted around on his crutches. The stance at the door was becoming tiresome and uncomfortable but he didn't have any intention of inviting this man in. His experience with being held captive by Michael had taught him to be careful of whom he trusted and his instincts were screaming at him _not_ to trust this man.

Unfortunately whether or not the man came in wasn't up to him as said man pushed his way through the door, knocking Carson off balance as he did so. Carson tried to stifle a sound of pain as his right foot settled down upon the floor a little too hard for his knee's liking but it didn't work and a small, brief cry escaped. Through eyes beginning to fill with tears, he could have sworn he saw a faint smile appear on the man's face and a look of joy come into his eyes at Carson's pain but the next instant he looked, both indications were gone.

"Then I will just wait until she returns," Rosha announced haughtily lowering himself down onto the sofa that Carson had previously been occupying.

_He did that on purpose_, Carson's mind screamed as he fought to keep a pleasantly calm look on his face. "I'm sorry but that might not be the best idea. I don't know when she'll return. I was led to believe it could be morning before she was finished."

Hawk-like brown eyes focused on Carson with a short fury in them that for a moment Carson was tempted to step back. Rosha raised off the couch and slunk over to him like a cat ready to pounce. "You are not lying to me are you? I do not remember Lansiah mentioning she had a patient."

"She didn't. Garleth came to ask for my assistance but I was unable to help."

"And she thought she could?" Rosha asked incredulously. His eyes roamed over Carson again and soon recognition filled them. "You are _that _Doctor Beckett?" Again the incredulous tone was back and Carson wasn't liking the sound of it. "If you were unable to help what made her think she could?"

"I did," Carson answered indignantly and proudly. Why was it everyone in this village seemed to think as little of Lansiah as she did of herself?

Rosha's attention snapped back to Carson with alarming speed, staring at him so close he felt as if he were being undressed and experimented on. Carson couldn't tell what the other man was thinking but he knew it wasn't good. Had he given something away? At long last Rosha turned his gaze away and dismissed Carson with a wave of his hand saying, "Then you are a fool."

Cold fury threatened to drown Carson at those five words and before he realized it he had crutched over to the door and thrown it open. He glared at Rosha and said in a tone that was as icy as the weather outside, "You need to leave now."

Humor crept into Rosha's features and he addressed Carson like he were indulging a child. "Very well. Tell Lansiah that I stopped by. My father wishes to meet with her." He left quickly before Carson could ask why on Earth Lansiah would need to meet with his father.

Carson slammed the door shut harder than he meant and made his way over to the sofa. He practically threw the crutches against the wall of the hearth and refrained from spreading out into his comfortable position. His mind was racing with reasons for Lansiah's meeting and his chest rose quickly in rage and adrenaline.

This was something he would need to discuss with Lansiah. Not only would he mention the man's visit but he wanted to assess her take on the events and see what her reaction would be to the news that she were to meet with Rosha's father. He hoped it wouldn't be a good one.

* * *

><p>Lansiah walked home with the elation of having successfully helped someone coursing through her veins. Thankfully Sascha's cough hadn't been more than the beginnings of a cold but as Carson had said it could easily have been worse. Maladies of the lungs were nothing things to be trifled with; it was always best to be seen to early on rather than suffer the consequences later.<p>

The sound of snow crunching underfoot echoed through the still evening air as she made her way back to the cottage, back to Carson. She stopped in her hike to take in the beauty of her home around her, loving the look of the snow upon the trees and bushes that presented. With a deep inhale of the freezing air, she continued on, opening her door and jumping in surprise when she found Carson sitting on the long chair with both feet on the ground. His shoulders were hunched as though he were trying to protect himself from injury and his hands were clenched upon his thighs. Something had clearly happened while she was gone.

"Carson?" she called gently as she closed the door. The door slammed shut with a finality that she'd heard many times but it wasn't that sound that had managed to stop her dead in her tracks. Carson's head had snapped up immediately at her call and she was worried to see tears filling his eyes. If the cold look in his normally warm blue eyes was anything to go by, she would guess that they were tears of frustration and anger but she hadn't a clue why he was angry. "What happened?"

"Rosha paid a visit while you were gone," Carson explained. While his entire posture screamed fury he was actually a mixture of everything and his fists were only clenched to stop them from shaking with fear, frustration, and pain.

"Oh and what did he want?" Lansiah asked, her tone deadening the more she spoke.

"He said his father wants a meeting with you."

And there it was, the thing that had Carson looking like he did. She knew that his mind, having been left to the silence too long, had come to the conclusion that she was to wed Rosha. It made sense. It was how a lot of other planets did things but it wasn't how her planet handled unions at all.

Anger bubbled within her chest at Rosha. He obviously sensed Carson's feelings for her and decided to make her friend doubt himself and her. A Gaelic curse exited her mouth while she mentally screamed at the man and Carson looked up at her in surprise. His mouth was agape and laughter momentarily brightened his eyes. That was obviously the best reaction she could have given him but she could see that it wasn't enough yet. He needed to understand.

She heaved a heavy sigh and walked over to join him on the long chair, choosing to sit on his left side so she could give soothing touches to his leg without hurting him. Reluctantly she stretched out her hand and gathered his fist into both of her hands.

"Carson we do not wed here as other planets do," she began soothingly, using one of her hands to gently massage his forearm as she spoke. "When two people wish to be joined there is a tradition. They court for a year then there is the meeting of families to make sure all persons agree. During the courtship, the plans are made for the ceremony that takes place in front of the entire village in the Assemblies. A dance is performed showing the gradual journey the couple has taken ending with their union. Ceremonial wine from the same goblet is shared first by the couple then the immediate family officially binding the couple to the alternate members, creating a bond that goes beyond any." She waited for the news to sink in then continued. "When two people wish to be joined, all family members have to agree. It is not usually a problem here because we are a small community and know one another closely. If I were to join with Rosha, I would have to meet not just his father but his mother, brothers, sisters, and distant relatives as well."

"I thought," Carson began before his brain finally caught up and hope sparked within him. "Really?"

Lansiah smiled and laughed a little, moving from her position beside him to in front of him, carefully parting his legs so she was between them. "Yes. We are not destined to join, we are not even courting."

She waited until the broadest smile she had ever seen spread across his face and the tears from earlier spilled out of his eyes then quickly raised herself so she were close to his height and pulled him in for a long, reassuring hug. Her arms vibrated with the amount of shaking he was doing and for the first time ever, it occurred to her that she was not the only fragile one of the relationship.

Carson Beckett could talk about a lot of things. She let him, enjoying his accent while she learned what she could. But there was one thing he never spoke of – his past relationships. She didn't know if it was because he hadn't really had any, an idea she found ridiculous given the man he was, or if it was because it was too painful for him but now she guessed it was the latter.

A frown that Carson couldn't see crossed her face as she ran her hands up and down his back while she comforted him. Beneath the fabric she could feel long, lean bumps rising against his skin. She silently ventured further down, hoping to determine what they were without having to ask. When she arrived at the biggest one, she accidentally applied too much pressure causing Carson to cry out in what she hoped was just surprise and pull away.

"I am sorry. Are you alright?" she asked anxiously, lowering herself back down to her heels on the floor and folding her hands in her lap.

"Aye. It's an old injury but still a wee bit tender at times," Carson replied sadly as his memory trailed back to the fateful day when the people of Atlantis had actually tried to have a day off. He heaved a great sigh full of past and present regrets. "I'm sorry, love."

Lansiah raised herself back up so she was staring him straight in the face. How had she not realized how scarred and broken the man before her was? "Carson, you have nothing to be sorry for," she assured with finality. "Rosha on the other hand. . ."

"Easy lass, don't get vicious," Carson warned lightly with a smile. He brought his hands up to his face, gave it a good scrub then lowered them again. "Do ya mind if we call it a night? I'm bloody tired. I think I could sleep for years."

Happy to see a bit of the old Carson back, Lansiah laughed indulgently and stood, "Of course, Cara. Of course."


	8. Meals and Nightmares

**Part VIII**** – Meals and Nightmares**

Dawn broke early over the little cottage sending cascades of bright sunslight in through the small window in the door, streaking the floor with its brilliance. The air inside the home was warm and inviting, coaxing those within it to remain asleep. Sounds echoed from the kitchen as the person inside it prepared a meal fit to spoil. Carson moved about the kitchen putting together as good a breakfast as he could for Lansiah. He felt bad for making her take care of him all the time and he wanted to do something nice for her.

Over the past three weeks things had changed for the better. Lansiah and he had grown even closer ever since that long, cold night. They both still held their secrets but the slow building trust that had been so fragile before was now almost iron-clad. Their first kiss had been unexpected and born out of emotion and they haven't shared another one since – a fact Carson was hoping to change this very day.

Carson woke before Lansiah this morning for the first time since he'd come to stay with her. He'd tested his knee for strength of pain and stiffness and had been pleasantly surprised when he received a good report on both fronts. His knee had been healing nicely and today was the first day he was able to bear a good portion of his weight on it. It was a tricky procedure given his constant stability issues with the joint but he'd managed to learn how to get around on his own with help from the knee brace and an unwilling wall, table or chair at times. Pain still scourged his leg with times of overuse but with how little Lansiah had been letting him do lately, that didn't happen very often.

He pivoted around to grab a glass of milk he'd managed to coax a goat-like animal into giving, grimacing when his knee twinged fiercely and his leg went out from under him. Thankfully he was alone and Lansiah didn't have to see that. He didn't need embarrassment as well as pain. A wince crossed his face every time he limped on his right but Carson didn't care, at least he was moving on his own.

Getting the door to the bedroom open with full hands hadn't been easy but after a balancing act worthy of a circus and a little bit of added pain Carson managed and shuffled quietly into the room.

Lansiah lay sprawled on her back. Her hair littered her pillow and several strands traveled across her face looking like black scars against her pale skin. Her arm and leg on her right side were stretched out, crossing their normal invisible line and more than infringing on half of his side. Her left arm lay across her stomach on top of the blankets showing the rise and fall of her deep breathing. A little scuffled snore escaped and Carson couldn't help but quietly laugh at just how adorable he found it and how stunning he found her.

He pulled up an armchair that sat by the hearth and settled himself in it, placing the tray of food onto the table next to it. He bent down and removed the brace from his knee. The bloody thing was uncomfortable enough as it is, he didn't need it while he was sitting down. A bird similar to a crow cawed out the window and Carson stretched out and leaned his head back while he patiently waited for the unaware love of his life to wake.

* * *

><p>Carson's eyes snapped open and he bolted upright with the speed born of a nightmare. He hissed when his back groaned at the quick movement and tears sprang to his eyes, quickly dripping from them. Images of <em>her <em>flying into the air and landing hard upon the concrete while the squeal of car tires sped away flashed before his eyes in slow motion as though a cruel cartoonist was re-creating the day and going through each moment frame by frame. His chest tightened as pain wrapped around him and he began finding it hard to breathe. Tears cascaded down his cheeks like a quick flowing waterfall with him was powerless to stop it.

Soothing hands gripped his biceps, forcing his body to face her but he didn't see her. He saw trees dancing in the wind with the sun making playful shadows on the ground. He saw the pale gray of the concrete slowly staining deep crimson with blood as _her _blood flowed freely, draining her life force as it went.

His breathing became erratic as his chest heaved in an effort to control the torture his mind was putting him through and soon the wheezing of ragged breathing could be heard echoing through the silent home.

Shudders began attacking him as his memories moved to the part where he just sat there in the street next to the oh so tiny body and cried. He was a shielded young man who was unable to cope with the trauma of what he had just witnessed and what he was still witnessing and his doctor skills that so many of his family had been proud of were useless as his mind sat there blank refusing to accept what had just happened.

The screen in front of his eyes went black then cut to the hospital room where she was struggling to live and slowly loosing the fight the longer the minutes on the wall ticked by. A ventilator that should never have had to be applied helped her breath but it was a fruitless job as her heart began to slow to a crawl just before stopping altogether. The shrill sound of the heart monitor sounded but still he didn't move; he couldn't. To jump into action was to admit that she was gone and he couldn't do that because then he'd have to admit it was all his fault that she was dead.

His brother Adrian was screaming at him to do something, to save her, he had the power to save her and he just stood there. Stars flashed before his eyes as his brother's fist connected with his cheek and the side of his head and he fell against the wall behind him. Carson didn't fight him, he deserved it and so much more. No matter how much punishment Adrian doled out it still wouldn't be enough, he knew he deserved death itself. Then and only then could he atone for the pain, death and destruction he just caused.

Hands circled around his throat and began squeezing, slowly cutting off his air supply as they went. Carson knew his brother was trying to strangle him, bring about the punishment he deserved and he didn't fight. Tears continued to stream down his eyes and he tried to tell his brother just how sorry he was by allowing him to exact his revenge.

"Carson!" a voice that didn't belong yelled. The desperate panic in the tone made him wonder where it had come from. He could see the rest of his family behind Adrian and none of them were calling his name, most of them were trying to stop his much bigger brother from killing him. "Carson, please! Come back to me! I need you here!" the voice said begged, the panic from moments ago fading into near sobs.

Carson drew warm air into his lungs in what felt like the first time in days. The scenery of the hospital faded, the colors bleeding and blending in with the wood and stone tones of Lansiah's cottage. Lansiah's face came briefly into view until she wrapped her arms around him with a speed so fast the speed of light couldn't have match it.

"I love you so much! Don't ever do that to me again, do you hear me?"

She began to shake in his arms and he tightened his grip around her, bringing a hand up to smooth out her hair in his usual manner. "Lansiah, Cara, what's wrong?"

"What do you mean 'what's wrong?'? Carson, your respiratory breath rate at its highest was 7 breaths per minute and your heart rate was around 40bpm. It was like you had lost your will to live and your body was obeying. You were non responsive to outer stimuli. I didn't know what to do! Please don't ever do that to me again, I don't know what I'd do without you." And before Carson even had time to truly comprehend the babbling speech she had thrown herself back into his arms and was sobbing.

Carson sat in shock, holding onto the woman he loved as she cried in fear of what her life would become without him in it. No that couldn't be right. No one ever felt that way about him; not him, not Carson. He wasn't worthy of that kind of love, he knew that, the entire universe knew it, didn't they? Yet here Lansiah was, weeping so heavily that she could barely breathe because she couldn't be without him, because she loved him. Wait – what?

Gently he disentangled himself from her grasp, running his hands down the sides of her face and using his thumbs to wipe away the tears. He held her at arms length, something he couldn't do for too much longer since they both needed to feel the safety and comfort of each other, and asked, "Did you say you love me?"

Lansiah's laugh filled his soul breathing new life into him but her answering nod almost made his heart stop completely. Only the overwhelming joy he felt restarted it and he soon curled himself around her, leaving his right leg as straight as he could so he didn't aggravate the already painfully throbbing knee. He pulled her into him as deeply as she could go, rubbing his scruffy cheek into the softness of her hair. Breathing the smell of her in and soaking the feel of her against him into his skin, Carson found he couldn't hold in his true feelings anymore and suddenly the normal three most terrifying words in the English language burst out of his mouth, blossoming into so much more.

"I love you so very much Lansiah Bareczi."

They sat there on the floor simply holding on to each other until the afternoon sun began to shine through the westerly window in the room. Carson felt that his exhilarated joy over what had passed between them would never end and he didn't want it to, not ever, but shortly before the slowly dimming light had penetrated the window, shining down upon the couple as though they were Excalibur stuck in the stone, the pain in his leg had begun to grow in strength. The tolerable throbbing ache it had been when he'd woken was now a hungry beast of extreme pain that tore at the limb with every slight movement that was made. He wondered if injured limbs had properties similar to the effects of anger on Bruce Banner since it certainly felt like it at the moment. Regretfully, Carson realized that the needed to disengage himself from Lansiah and get off the floor, preferably onto a bed.

Slowly he began to pull away, biting his lip until little tiny droplets of blood could be felt on his tongue when he was forced to move his right leg. A pitiful whimper escaped when the pain increased to beyond his ability to stoically hold it in.

Lansiah frowned but didn't ask what was wrong. She already knew. The sounds of a person sniffling and ragged breathing were the first things she heard as she began to wake up. When she sat up another sniffle sounded and she turned her head to find Carson sitting stiffly in one of her favorite bedroom armchairs, tears falling down his face like one Hoa's summer rains. She'd remained on the bed for a few moments, struck surprised and worried when she realized he was crying and heavily at that; she had never seen Carson cry so she hadn't known until then just how heartbreaking a sight it was.

The beginning sounds of a person wheezing began to sound from her friend and Lansiah realized she needed to get over to him, see what was wrong. She grabbed the upper portion of both arms forcing him to face her but his crystal blue eyes stared blankly back at her. _Waking Nightmare, _her memory supplied when her brain could not. Carson had once told her of such things but she hadn't committed it to mind as easily as she had the others. It hadn't made sense to her at the time so she saw no point in trying to remember the condition.

She'd almost laughed when the Lantean had told her that it was often a scary experience for both the patient and those around the patient but sitting here before her friend and hearing his horribly ragged breaths, she understood that the word 'scary' didn't come close to describing how she felt. Terrified came closer but even then she felt the word inadequate.

Carson's ragged breathing quieted but her heart gave a jolt when she realized it was because he wasn't breathing as often as he should. She was thankful that Carson had taught her how to count a person's respiratory breaths per minute as well as how to take a heart rate because at the moment, she needed both to see how he was doing.

She moved from her spot before her friend and left to go get his watch that sat on the table beside his portion of the bed. Clunking and a thud came from behind her and when Lansiah turned around she found Carson on the floor with both of his legs bent at ninety degree angles and out to the side and his arms awkwardly lying beneath his torso. Realizing the position was probably painful for his healing knee, Lansiah made it her first duty to straighten his body out with his legs stretched long-wise on the ground and his arms by his sides with his torso leaning against the abandoned arm chair.

Once she'd gotten him so he was more comfortable, she began counting his breaths per minute and his heart rate. Her own heart dropped into her stomach and stopped beating for a few seconds when she found that he seemed to be slowly dying. She had to do something before she lost him.

That last truth dawned on her and her once barely beating heart began to race faster than it ever had before. No, she couldn't lose him, not when she's just begun to be able to call him her own! Frantically her mind searched for something she could do but her skills as a healer hadn't prepared her for something such as this. She already knew that Carson couldn't see or feel anything - his blank stare at her and his injured knee becoming painfully bent proved that to her so she did the only thing she could think of.

Slowly she leant in and called his name. When she received nothing in return she called again, begging him not to leave her here alone and telling him that she needed him. She didn't care if she sounded pathetic and she didn't care that she'd begun sobbing hopelessly as long as it brought him back to her. When he snapped out of his trance and drew in his first deep breath in minutes, Lansiah threw herself into his arms unable to express how she felt any other way.

She helped him off the floor and over to the bed where she propped him up with as many pillows as she could find, making sure to place extra under his knee.

"I see that you have made me breakfast," she reminded while he took some pain relief. She walked over and grabbed the tray that had somehow remained undisturbed when Carson had fallen to the floor. On her way back she stopped where Carson had deposited his knee brace and grabbed it as well.

"Aye I did. I wanted to repay you for all that you've done for me," Carson answered. His voice was tight and strained from pain but his gratitude showed through his eyes, brightening the irises so they glowed a crisp cerulean.

Lansiah placed the tray on her vacated side of the bed and sat down by Carson's feet. She gave the left a little tickle to try to get him to smile then gently placed his right on top of her thigh. His hands instantly went to the mattress by his sides and grabbed hold but Lansiah did her best to ignore it knowing this would help him in the end. As she wrapped the brace around his leg and fastened it, she talked hoping to keep his mind off his discomfort. "You can be a very difficult patient Carson but there is never a need for you to repay me anything."

Carson gasped as she gave the brace one last gentle tug to make sure it was secure but he said nothing. His mind was working through what she said and desperately arguing against it. Instead of arguing with her however he, he chose to try to acknowledge the statement while not necessarily agreeing with it. He grabbed the tray and placed it over his own lap, giving her side a suggestive pat.

"Aye you may be right," he conceded graciously, "but I'd rather know that I tried to say thank you than take you for granted so, please, join me?"

"I'd love to," Lansiah answered with a broad smile as she walked around and sat down on the bed next to him. She grabbed it bit of egg and her eyebrows shot up in surprise as the flavors melted on her tongue. "This is really good Carson," she complimented as she grabbed another bite and quickly shoved it into her mouth. Slate gray eyes rolled upwards in joy as ivory eyelids closed over them.

"Thank ye love. I grew up in a fairly big family so learned how to make a lot with only a little." He blushed as he spoke and made sure to keep his eyes downcast to hide his embarrassment but a smile appeared on his face showing the pleasure he got from her enjoyment. The pain lines that had gathered in the corners of his eyes gave way to laugh wrinkles and Lansiah felt her heart melt and her temperature rise.

Her declaration of love may have been made in a fit of emotion but they were no less true. She loved him as much as she has loved any man and she knew the longer she knew him, the more that love would grow.

They finished the rest of the meal in relative silence. Carson gave most of the food to Lansiah and thoroughly loved sitting there and watching her eat it. By the time she had finished, the pain in his knee was all but gone so he'd quickly jumped up and cleaned up then exited through the door before his friend could say otherwise.

While he escorted the tray full of empty plates and cups down to the kitchen, he began thinking of what he could do for dinner. Lansiah had said he didn't need to repay her for anything but he still loved being in her company and the thought of her provocatively enjoying the meal he'd prepared made him long to make every meal from here on out.

He cleaned the dishes and wiped the tray as his mind ran through possible dinners he could make. His mind brought up a recipe he hadn't tried in years, mainly because he hadn't needed to, along with a desert to go with it and he grinned. He'd have to make sure that Lansiah had the ingredients of course but even if she didn't, he was sure he could find suitable substitutes. Now all he had to do was make sure it was alright with Lansiah.

Carson left the kitchen to find the woman of his desires sitting in her overly large armchair, reading a thick book. Her hair was tied back in a braid woven around a pale lilac ribbon, trailing down her back and leaving little wisps of ebony strands frolicking about as it went. She wore a rather heavy looking light green dress that reflected the firelight shining brightly on it as it danced about the room. Over her lap and covering her bared feet lay a patchwork quilt whose fabric had been made from her parents' left over clothes.

His heavy footsteps must have alerted her because no sooner had he left the kitchen when her head shot up and turned to look at him. The smile that crossed her face and remained almost made him dissolve into a puddle of goo on her floor and he felt his heart flutter about wildly in his chest, wanting nothing more than to escape and fly into her arms where it belonged.

"I was going to go help but I thought you'd like to do it by yourself," she said with indulgence and laughter in her tone. "Were you able to find where everything went?"

"I was, yes and now I have a favor to ask of you," Carson answered as he sat down on the sofa, facing her with earnest eyes. "I want to make dinner for you tonight."

"But, why?" Lansiah almost smacked herself in the head with her book. That wasn't the answer she'd meant to give and she could see by the softening in his eyes that he heard her self doubt and denial.

"Because I think you deserve a break," he answered softly, reaching out to take her hand and easily enveloping it in his two. "And because I want to share some recipes from my home with you."

With the endearing look he gave, Lansiah found herself unable to say no. He could have asked her anything and she would have said yes to it all even if it was impossible. The implications of him sharing something from his home with her were great and she felt honored by his desire and request. She leaned forward and gave him a deep kiss. "It would be my honor to have you cook for me."


	9. Dinner and Tales

**Part IX - Dinner and a Tale**

Blue-gray irises tracked the activity in the kitchen with an appreciative, loving eye. Humor sparkled within them when there was a loud clatter and a string of Gaelic curses. Lansiah couldn't stop herself from chuckling at the frustration written on Carson's face. He was currently trying to peel apples with only a small paring knife and it wasn't going well. She found it amusing that he could stitch up the bloodiest of messes but he could not hold the apple long enough to get it peeled and seeded.

The sound of an apple rolling onto the table followed by another curse came from the kitchen making Lansiah laugh again. _I suppose I should try to help,_ she thought wistfully as she slowly rose from the chair, stretching her muscles like a cat before she started forward. The problem was that she didn't want to intrude on Carson's meal making. She had seen just how happy he had been when she'd agreed to letting him cook and she didn't want to ruin that for him. When she came into the kitchen and the apple once again slipped out of his hands, her problem was solved for her, albeit not in the way she would have liked, when the small but sharp knife also swiftly slid along Carson's hand and embedded itself into the soft skin of his index finger.

Carson yelped and dropped the knife, choosing to wrap his shirt around his injured finger in hopes of stemming the blood flow instead. When the sting of apple juice mixing with an open wound had faded he took his finger out of his shirt and briefly inspected it before running the limb under cold water to rinse the blood off. _I don't remember this bein' so bloody hard,_ he grumbled in his mind as he grabbed the knife and cleaned it.

When he moved back to begin again, Lansiah's hand stilled his. She grabbed his wounded hand and slowly began rubbing a salve that smelled like lanolin and mint on top and around his finger then wrapped a sterile cloth bandage around it, expertly tying the tiny ends together with firm finality. It wasn't tight enough to cut of blood flow but it did ensure that the cloth stayed on even when he bent the finger.

"Thank ye, love," Carson said with a sigh.

"Perhaps you should leave the knife work to me?" Lansiah suggested with a smile as she took the paring knife out of his hand. She swiftly grabbed an apple and began peeling and coring it.

Carson watched with admiration at her expertise then conceded the point with an impressed, "Aye, I think I should."

With Lansiah's help the apples were peeled, cored and diced within an hour. Carson was allowed to perform the dicing given it was a fairly simple task but Lansiah had refused to allow him to try peeling the apples again. She made quick work of the tart fruit, completing the task in about half the time it would have taken Carson, then went over to the sink to wash her hands and instruments.

She froze for a moment when she felt Carson wrap his body around hers, bend down and give a caressing kiss to her neck but she soon melted when he withdrew his head so that he was simply leaning his cheek against hers while he washed his hands. He was careful to keep the bandage dry as he went but Lansiah felt herself hypnotized by the movements his capable hands made while they cleaned themselves. Over and under they went, circling one another in almost poetic fashion and for the first time it occurred to her that he has probably perfected the not so beautiful art of handwashing so that it was as much a science and habit as it was beautiful.

Water splashing into her face drew her from her trance and she turned her head up to find Carson smiling slyly at her. She rebelled by splashing water back at him then squirming out of his grip and up the stairs where she knew he couldn't reach her too quickly. The warmest of smiles bent her lips when she heard Carson playfully yell, "I'll get you for that lass," then laugh as he went back to making his meal. She slowly came back down to the main floor and silently curled into her big chair. Her eyelids began to droop slowly but surely and her last thoughts were of how things couldn't be more perfect.

* * *

><p>Carson watched with a twinkle in his eyes as Lansiah slowly fell asleep before the fire. He knew that she had pushed herself almost to the point of over-exhaustion while taking care of him and it pleased him to know she was finally getting the rest she deserved. He sprinkled a wee bit of lemon juice over the apples then placed them in the ice box until he was ready for them. A grimace briefly crossed his face when his knee gave a painful twinge but it was gone as soon as it had come just like the pain had.<p>

After the morning's incident and the afternoon's uncomfortable position Carson had taken a few hours to stay off his feet to rest his knee. It had been hurting badly ever since his less than graceful fall to the floor and though the medication had helped calm the pain considerably he knew he still needed to stay off it for a bit if he wanted to be able to make a meal for Lansiah.

They had spent the afternoon in comfortable quiet, both sitting in front of the fireplace reading or dozing as they saw fit, never seeing a reason to speak. Lansiah kept stealing glances over at Carson, checking on him but he pretended not to notice. It was understandable that she was still worried and he knew he couldn't do anything to belay her fears so he allowed her her silent concern. He'd been relieved when she hadn't asked about his nightmare but he knew he'd have to tell her eventually. Memories and visions still haunted his mind bringing forth brief images of her on the ground bleeding or dying. Sleep wouldn't come so long as he saw the entire ordeal and though he hated to burden the young woman with such a horrible tale, he did not want to terrify her with another nightmare either.

He placed the flan molding into the oven fire, using his free hand to support himself against the outside of the stone hearth while he used the other to put it on the shelf. He had never tried making Apple Butterscotch Pie* by himself but he had helped his mum make it enough so that he knew the recipe by heart, he just hoped Lansiah liked the sweet taste of butterscotch. While the shell baked, Carson moved on to beginning the stock he would need for the Cock-a-Leekie-Soup*.

All in all it would be a very traditional Scottish meal but he had chosen foods that were both simple and plentiful yet delicious and appealing. He tossed the fowl into the pot of stock and vegetables and gave them a good stir before returning to his work station to begin preparing the rest.

His finger ached with the added weight of every pot, pan or cutting board but he was thankful the injury hadn't been worse. He'd had some of the cooks on Atlantis come to him with the top parts of their fingers shaved off. Sometimes it was at such an angle that no real damage had been done but sometimes it resulted in some pretty nasty wounds, some that required physical therapy to regain full use of the limb again.

When the recipe in his mind called for nothing more than the leeks it had rebelled against the lack of vitamins and had quickly instructed him to go down and grab some carrots and leafy greens that she had made for him on numerous occasions. He'd had to hold on to the wall then carefully place his right down each time but eventually he had made it and had grabbed an empty basket to carry his goods back up with him in. A cool draft from his right drew his attention and Carson limped over to find a door that was so well concealed that had it not been for the draft he would never have noticed it. The door itself was made of solid dark wood – though he suspected the darkness was a stain that had been applied – and had a small metal window in the top serving as a form of a peek-hole. Blockading it was a strong metal bar that guarded from unauthorized entry and served to keep what should have been a strong wind down to a whistling draft.

He looked around and found there weren't any crates or barrels of food blocking the door. Soon his curiosity won over and he limped over to the peep-hole then opened it. The metal door opened on rusted hinges with a loud squealing creak but what he found behind the door shocked him.

Lamp torches hung along a long, wide hall, separated by no more than a ten feet of stone wall. Two were lit, lighting the normally dark tunnel to reveal several connecting paths each leading to different parts of the village. A tapestry of what he assumed was her family's crest hung just outside the door, the firelight from the torch lending spooking shadows to the cloth when there should be none. On the floor by the door he found a barrel of water with several clay cups sitting on a shelf above it. A dim light further down the main hall shone brightly, barely allowing him to see another tapestry on a wall and barrel of water with cups both of which sat in front of a door similar to the one he was looking out of.

_Wasn't Garleth's place close? _his mind wandered as an idea formed in his head. _Could it be that these tunnels are used as a means of transportation to the villagers within the settlement when weather would not permit outside travel? If that was the case, why hadn't Lansiah mentioned them when Garleth had needed his help? He could have certainly made the short trip this way. And why had Garleth used the front door rather than the cellar on that cold, winter's night? Why hadn't he just used the tunnel? _

Question after question, idea after idea swirled through his mind making his head spin and begin to ache from the strain. He closed the hatch in the door in hopes it would close of the lines of inquiry in his mind as well and proceeded to gather what he needed from Lansiah's well stocked pantry.

The room itself was as big as Lansiah's entire main floor giving way to many shelves that lined the walls full of dried goods. Barrels sat under the lowest of shelves holding the produce that could be harvested for the winters, each one labeled in a language Carson couldn't read. When he'd first visited the Hoan, she had brought him down to the cellar, showing him what each shelf held and what lay in each barrel so that he may have access to food while she was away gathering herbs and remedies from the forest. A door similar to the one behind him briefly separated the stone wall, protecting the room where the cattle, foul, lamb, and pork could be stored free from pests that would wish to feed.

Carson limped painfully about the room, praying with every other step that his knee didn't give out from the pressure and gathered up the ingredients he'd need for the soup. He grabbed a bushel of carrots, a wrapping of leafy greens, and a sprig of rosemary, a small bundle of thyme, and one bay leaf. The essential ingredients for the pie were already housed upstairs in Lansiah's kitchen so he hadn't needed anything for that but all other ingredients were kept down here in the cool, dry air to be stored.

When he'd finished Carson slowly made his way upstairs then began cleaning and chopping the herbs and vegetables as quietly as he could so as not to wake Lansiah. He quickly finished with the ingredients and tossed them into the pot that was now coming close to boiling then grabbed a spoon to stir. The aromas that wafted from the pot slammed into his face, filling his lungs with the savory smells. He used a thick piece of cloth to move the pot so it was further away from the heat, allowing the soup to simmer, then grabbed the flan and took it over to the table so he could begin filling it.

An hour later, the pie was in the ice box cooling and the soup was an hour away from being ready to serve. The kitchen had been cleaned and the ingredients had been put away. Carson limped over to the sofa, heavily favoring his right leg, and quietly lowered himself upon it. He was exhausted in the physical sense and his knee had been screaming at him to get off it for the past thirty minutes so he finally felt able to comply. Leaning his head against the arm of the chair, he released a soft sigh of relief as the cushions absorbed his weight and supported his aching body. He couldn't believe how much hard work actually went into preparing meals from scratch but he also wouldn't trade it for the world. The satisfaction of knowing that he had managed to make a meal from scratch that his mum had often done with help of prepackaged items was more than enough to leave his pride swelling and his face beaming. Agony pulsed in his knee in time with his heart, reminding him just how much it had cost him to make everything but he didn't care. As long as Lansiah enjoyed it all, it was worth it.

* * *

><p>Lansiah woke stiff and sore to such wonderful aromas that she hadn't smelled before. Her muscles groaned when they were forced to move but after a few minutes of stretching they began to quiet and loosen. She looked around the living area hoping to find Carson resting on the long chair but found the piece of furniture empty and Carson in the kitchen bustling around like a little wife. He was favoring his right leg quite badly but otherwise seemed happy so she let him be, content with watching his progress as he flew about the room, grabbing plates, bowls, and bread as he went.<p>

The table that normally doubled as both a work station and a dinner table was set with the smoothest white cloth she possessed which hung halfway down to the floor. Two candles stood proudly atop their holders, beaming brightly and providing such a romantic feel that she already felt herself being swept away. Goblets sat before two plates topped with bowls and a bottle of wine stood in between the candles, reflecting the light with the dull brilliancy of the deep maroon glass.

It appeared as though dinner were ready but that couldn't be right at all. She hadn't been asleep that long, not more than an hour she was sure.

"Good evening love," Carson's voice greeted merrily from the kitchen having noticed that she was awake. "Did you sleep well?"

"I did yes," Lansiah replied giving him the look of a dear frozen in fear. "How long have I been asleep?"

"Oh about four hours," Carson replied off-handedly as he ladled some soup into the bowls. He was dressed in a pair of dark jeans and a dark blue, striped dress shirt that he'd brought from Atlantis making him appear very handsome indeed. Her eyes trailed down his backside to openly stare before he spun around with a loaf in his hand. He began slicing bread, completely oblivious to her staring, then placed a couple slices into the broth to help soften them. His hands moved so fast that she found it hard to keep up but soon he was opening the bottle of wine to allow the liquid within to breathe. "Dinner is almost ready if you would like to freshen yourself up."

Feeling a little underdressed and still half asleep, Lansiah thought that was a fantastic idea. "Thank you. I believe I will."

She swept quickly from the room, her normal house dress trailing behind her in the wind, and up the stairs into her own closet wondering what she could possibly put on that could match him. While unplaiting her hair, she sat upon her bed with furrowed brows staring into the closet that lay within her mind. Dresses and combinations swam before her eyes but her mind quickly dismissed of each one determining them unsuitable for such a special occasion.

"What you're wearing is fine lass," Carson said so gently it almost made up for the fact that he'd surprised her. He limped into the room and came to sit beside her, giving support through closeness and radiating love. His hand stilled her frantic unbraiding by covering her own and pushing it out of the way. Slowly his fingers worked through her hair, untangling the curls and smoothing it out.

"I do not have anything to match your dress," she whispered in so small a voice it could have been a child's.

"You don't need to. I found myself missing the feel of thicker clothes and less layers so I put these on." His hand cupped her chin, turning her head to face him. Piercing blue eyes with such love and honesty in them peered into her own hesitant brown ones, communicating so much more than his words ever could. He leaned in and placed a tender kiss on her lips, bringing her closer to him when she responded. With his hands cupped around her face, he pulled away and smiled. "You outshine the suns in whatever you wear Lansiah. You don't have to try to impress me."

He exited as soon as the words were out, his speed surprising her with how badly he was hurting, and left her to her own thoughts. Her mind raced as she dressed and it was an effort to keep her heart beating at a steady pace. It wasn't just his words that had struck her so deeply but his eyes that had told her the truth of what he had felt. She felt honored and unworthy at the same time feeling exhilarated that he loved her as much as she did him but upset because she felt as though she didn't deserve him.

When she came back down the stairs, she found Carson stretched out on the long chair – which he seemed to call a sofa – with his head leaning against the arm of it and his knee elevated on a stack of pillows. His hand trailed around his right thigh, squeezing in time with a normal heart rate as the constant blood flow brought renewed pain. Her heart ached to know he was hurting and her brows furrowed in guilt. She could have prevented the pain that tore through his leg but when he looked at her and smiled the smile of a little boy who was proud because he was able to tie his shoes, Lansiah knew she couldn't rob him of his joy by showing guilt nor could she have stopped him from trying to doing everything independently.

The smile faded from his face to a look of sheer awe and wonder. She blushed at his attention and turned to look behind to make sure no one was there. When she realized that indeed he _was_ staring at her like she was from a dream, the light pink on her cheeks turned to a deep rouge. She didn't understand his behavior – after all she wasn't that beautiful – but she appreciated its intentions.

Carson lowered his legs onto the floor with a deep grimace, eager to go over to her and escort her into the kitchen, then slowly eased to stand. His knee began to buckle at the slightest hint of weight so he remained where he was with his hand on the arm of the sofa to balance him. When he thought his knee would hold his weight he slowly started heading over. Lansiah had begun making her way to him by this time so he only had to go halfway where he regally held out his arm and waited until she intertwined hers with his before he began leading her into the kitchen.

Like the true gentleman he was taught to be, Carson seated and served Lansiah before he seated himself. With a blush of embarrassment he raised his right leg onto an extra chair that he had planted there, then began to serve himself. He watched Lansiah carefully peer into the bowl with such trepidation he thought someone might have tried to poison her sometime in her past then carefully bring a spoon full of soup to her mouth.

Her gray eyes widened in shock then closed in pleasure as the flavors burst on her tongue. "This is really good Carson," she complimented as though it were a surprise he could cook.

"Thank you. It was Ariana's favorite when she was sick." His heart gave a twinge of pain at the memory of her and he found that his appetite had disappeared entirely.

Lansiah chewed her lip in debate before she responded with a hesitantly asked, "Ariana?"

"Aye, she was m'niece." When Lansiah's forehead creased in confusion Carson explained, "She was my brother's daughter."

"Ah," Lansiah said in understanding. "What happened to her?"

Carson felt his heart drop into his stomach at the question and he fought to keep tears from pouring down his cheeks. It had been almost twenty years since the accident but he felt pain stab his chest every time she was brought up. He inhaled deeply hoping to keep his throat from closing and released it with a shuddering sound.

When Lansiah's hand closed around his and gave it a comforting squeeze, he looked up to find understanding and sadness in her eyes. "I am sorry," she apologized so earnestly that he almost shattered and broke down then and there. "You do not have to tell me if you do not wish."

"No, I'm sorry. This wasn't the best conversation to have at the dinner table." Carson straightened as high as his aching back would let him and cleared his throat. But when he tried to begin eating, he found that Lansiah wouldn't release her hold on his hand.

"Carson," she began gently, "I do not know if _you_ would call it the right kind of story to tell at dinner, but I do know that you need to release the burden you carry. It is obvious you are deeply troubled by what happened, and I can see it tortures you daily. You need not suffer alone." She gave his hand another comforting, more insistent squeeze. "Please. I want to hear it."

"Ariana was a beautiful child full of wonder. She loved running off to explore new places, whether they be a new room or a forest. Her father, my brother Adrian, and her mother had gone on a trip, their first one since she had been born and had left her in my care. I was busy studying for an exam at the time and wasn't watching her….."

* * *

><p>Lansiah sat in her bedroom not long after dinner had finished puzzling through what Carson had just told her trying to make sure that she took it all in. It had been incredibly hard for her lover to get his story out and many times he had had to stop so he could get his breath back in between sobs. She wasn't aware that she'd been crying herself until he reached up during one his breaks and wiped her own tears away.<p>

As she sat and listened to the tale, she kept trying to imagine what he, his brother and his brother's wife must have gone through – to lose some one was always hard but to lose a five year old little girl who had barely begun to live must have been devastating. But no matter how hard she tried, she knew that she would never come close to what it must have really been like. She wasn't a stranger to loss, her father had died when she was just ten years of age, but she already understood that she would never have to feel the guilt as well as the loss of that death as Carson carried about Ariana.

When he had begun to describe the moment she had died, Lansiah had swiftly moved her chair from diagonal to him to beside him all the while keeping hold of his hand. He'd slowly begun to shake the further the story progressed and she could see that he was close to falling apart. She wanted to be there for him to hold when he did.

Her heart broke into a million pieces when he started crying all the hurt, guilt and sense of loss he felt with Ariana's death. The sound was not only foreign to her hears but it assaulted them making her want to block it out so she wouldn't have to remember it. His tale had begun to be hard to understand through his crying but she'd understood from the moments in his waking nightmare what had happened and she found the desire to hold on to him til he suffocated so strong, she'd begun to try.

Angry couldn't even begin to describe how she felt at his brother. It was understandable to be upset, devastated even, when one loses a loved one but no matter how much of the loss you feel, you should _never _take it out on one another. She could sense from the way Carson told the tale that he and Adrian both believed it to be his fault but they were wrong. It was an accident, a tragic one to be sure but an accident none the less. She was glad that she would never have to meet the eldest brother because she might actually punch him instead of shaking his hand.

By the end of it Carson had felt the need to expend energy so he'd begun to clean up despite that he could barely stand for the pain in his leg. His knee had stiffened considerably during their meal and could collapse underneath his weight with every step he took but there was a rage inside him that drove his body forward, moving about the kitchen in such agitation that Lansiah had begun to feel the same way. She had decided to leave him to his task and let him expend some frustration and so she came upstairs to patiently wait for his return.

Uneven footfalls sounded on the steps followed by such deep groans her heart bled at the sound. Instantly she was up and out the door, waiting for him at the top of the stairs. She almost grabbed his crutches but thought better of it, not wanting to insult him in case he didn't feel they were necessary.

Carson ascended the stairs with tears falling silently out of his eyes and a permanent grimace on his face. Pain flowed so strongly from every pore that her own knee hurt in sympathy. When he finally made it to the top, the doctor stopped to lean his entire body against the wall, using the corner he'd picked to hold himself up while he lifted his right leg off the floor. Ice blue eyes peered out of barely closed lids and she knew the request that was coming from them.

Without a word, Lansiah went to the spare room and grabbed the crutches. He had abandoned them at the earliest possible moment, choosing to use a walking stick to help lend aid until that too had become unnecessary. She handed him the instruments then waited for him to push his tired body off the walk and make his way to the bedroom. Once there he promptly placed the crutches against the wall closest to his side of the bed and crawled onto the mattress.

Lansiah watched all this with heavy heart and wondered if she should try to say something that would soothe his pain but she knew no words would help and so remained silent. While he sat up and took a dose of pain medication, she walked over to her side of the bed and crawled onto it, coiling herself around him as he swallowed some water. Before she settled in completely, she grabbed a couple of pillows that had been discarded overnight and placed them under his leg. His breath hitched with the movement and a whimper that tore through her came out of his mouth but he didn't object.

Once she'd finished, she laid back down and curled into him, pulling him as close as she could. His voice mumbling through her ear brought her out of near sleep.

"Thank you for listening Lansiah. I'm sorry if I ruined our dinner."

She gave him a firm hug hoping to let him know the ridiculousness of that statement and answered. "You are welcome Carson. I hope it did more good than harm."

"Aye it did," was his short answer. It was followed with a long sigh and she knew he was beginning to relax. His emotions from the entire day were beginning to catch up with him and she guessed that it wouldn't be long before he was asleep.

"Dinner was wonderful. Thank you for sharing it with me," Lansiah said wanting to make sure that she didn't think he had ruined anything. A playful smile spread across her face and she added, "It is just too bad there wasn't anything sweet to accompany it. Then it would have been perfect."

Carson's laughter rumbled in his chest. "There was something actually. Apple Butterscotch Pie, my mum's recipe. It's in the ice box ready to eat if you want some."

She thought for a moment, debating whether or not she actually wanted to get up then slowly shook her head. "I think it can wait until tomorrow. I do not know about you but I believe I could, what is the phrase, sleep for a year?"

"Aye that's the phrase," Carson answered with another laugh. He squirmed a little to get comfortable then curled his arm almost protectively around her waist.

Their faces now leaned against one another and their breaths automatically adapted to the others so that they were breathing in the same rhythm. The sound of each others' beating hearts had been enough music for them and neither one noticed when that they'd fallen asleep. Lying there, curled up and holding on to each other, things were perfect. They were together and they were safe and that was all that they needed to know.

* * *

><p><strong>Author's Note: <strong>The recipes I mentioned are found at rampantscotland(dot)com(slash)recipes. I haven't actually tried either of them so when I say that they are delicious, I'm assuming they are rather than going by experience. If someone HAS tried them and they AREN'T delicious – I apologize.


	10. Commoners and Nobility

**Part X - Commoners and Nobility  
><strong>

The following week brought more snow to the already snow covered planet. Carson stood in front of the door staring longingly out the window as he watched the white flakes come steadily down. No wind swept through the trees giving the outside air a sense of calm that he knew couldn't last. The clouds above were dark and foreboding promising harsher weather in the future. He hoped it would end by the day after tomorrow since he was scheduled to go back to Atlantis for a check-up but he wasn't counting on it. It seemed that the storms, whether they were winter or otherwise, lasted longer on Hoa than they did on any other planet that he'd been to. In truth he wasn't all that worried about going to Atlantis. The only reason he looked forward to it was that it meant he could get out and about for a bit.

Lansiah was upstairs getting ready to check on Sascha's cold and Carson wished he could go with her. Restlessness had begun to attack him the more days he spent inside the cottage. He loved being with Lansiah but there were only so many days that a person could be cooped up in a house before they longed to see the outdoors again. But he knew that trying to walk in icy, slippery snow that easily hid holes would be a bad idea right now so he'd reluctantly agreed to remain behind while she made the short trip.

He hadn't mentioned the tunnels to her yet, though he knew that they both could make the journey over to Garleth's using them hence relieving some of his restless energy. But he didn't want to make her feel like she was being attacked by his almost challenging inquiry and he wasn't sure he was even supposed to know about them. It was hard to remain silent and keep that he knew a secret but he figured she'd mention them to him when she felt like it.

Footsteps sounded from behind him and he turned around to find Lansiah coming down the stairs, her winter cloak trailing behind her on the stairs dragging some dust with it. She carried a covered basket that Carson knew she used to hold her healing supplies and her hand was currently rifling through it while she looked for something. Her hair was tied into a tight, untidy braid which fell over her right shoulder as her head bent down to look at the basket.

"I believe I have everything," she mumbled to herself. The worry in her voice did nothing to hide the agitation she felt. It wasn't her first time performing a follow-up on a patient but it was her first time doing it to a patient that originally wanted Carson – a fact that he knew made her nervous.

Carson walked over to Lansiah, favoring his right leg only slightly. The colder weather and oncoming storm had begun to make his knee ache, causing it to give a bone-deep throb with every step he made. He grabbed the sides of her arms, slowly pulling her into a hug that grew more comfortable when she stopped fidgeting. "You'll be fine love," he assured into her ear. He heaved a great sigh, peering out the window. "You better get going before the next storm comes."

"Aye," Lansiah responded blushing in embarrassment. Clearly he'd either been saying that too much or she'd been hanging around him too much. "I think I should go. I'll see you when I get back. Please-"

"-I know, try to take it easy," Carson intoned for her with a loving sigh. "I'll be fine."

She smiled at him then disappeared out the door. Once she'd gone, Carson ran his hands together then went in search of a broom; he had work to do.

* * *

><p>Carson sat on the sofa resting his aching leg. He had been cleaning for little more than an hour and the place was spotless for his efforts so he thought it was time to relax for a bit. His eyes had just begun to close in contemplation of a nap when a cocky knock sounded on the door making his heart sink. Though he'd only heard that knock once, he knew exactly who was at the door and he wanted nothing more than to ignore the man. Sadly his manners wouldn't allow him to do that so he grudgingly got off the couch and went to open the door.<p>

Rosha stood on the porch with a sneer of cruel delight on his face and anger in his eyes. "Ah, Carson, I see Lansiah has made you her servant." He pushed through the entrance to stand just outside the kitchen entrance.

It was obvious to Carson that the prat wanted something since he hadn't automatically gone to take up the biggest piece of furniture he could find but for the life of him, the Scot didn't know what it was. After Carson closed the door, he found out what it was.

"Lansiah never spoke with my father," Rosha stated in almost a growl before a sneer appeared on his face. "Did you forget to tell her?"

"No, I bloody well did not forget to tell her," Carson responded angrily, insulted at the implications that he wouldn't do it. He paused for a moment at the happy look on the other man's face and took a deep breath to calm himself. "She told me that you are not welcome in her home, so I'm askin' ya to leave." Okay so that was only partially a lie but the blanched expression on Rosha's face was worth the small sin.

When the shock of his statement had faded and the latter part of his sentence registered with Rosha he gave a smirking smile and waved his hand as though that dismissed Carson's request. "You may ask all you wish but I am not leaving."

Carson folded his arms over his chest in maddened determination. "Aye, I think you are."

The two men stood staring at one another defiantly, seeing if their irate gaze would faze the other. When nothing happened, Carson was the one to give, tired from his earlier exertion and aching from the weather. He turned around to walk back to the door to open it but a hand grabbed his arm, tightening painfully around bicep and spinning him so he stared into a pair of enraged, beady eyes. His knee twinged horribly with the pivoting movement and would have buckled underneath him had it not been for the other man's bruising hold keeping him upright.

"Do not turn your back on me. I am not some commoner that you can treat as your equal," Rosha snapped viciously further tightening his hold on Carson's arm making him wince.

By this point, Carson's blood was boiling and the temper that most Scots were known for had begun to rise to the surface. When he spoke his voice was cold enough to make hell freeze over. "As far as I'm concerned I am your equal. I didn't treat ya like a commoner. I'm treatin' ya like the unwelcome guest that ya are." He paused for a moment before he added, "Though by all my experience with nobility, you are not even close."

With a roar of rage, Rosha lashed out at Carson, punching the left side of his face with his right hand. He released his hold on Carson's arm and went to punch him again but the Scot grabbed the closest thing he could find and used it to parry the blow. Rosha's hand cracked against the metal candlestick with a sickening sound the yelled in pain, holding his hand in the other.

Anger took over the younger man, diluting his body's receptors to pain and he lashed out at Carson again. Using a heavy booted foot, Rosha kicked Carson's weakened right knee. He waited until the Lantean released a cry of agony and fell to the floor before he jumped on top of him, straddled his legs to keep his body pinned, putting as much pressure as he could on the injured right one, and began landing punch after punch on the Scot's face.

Carson could barely think through the torture his leg was putting him through but a small rational part of his mind realized that he needed to get the crazed Hoan off him before he caused too much more damage. As Rosha made to punch him again, Carson quickly grabbed the offending hand and twisted it almost cruelly, making sure to apply extra pressure to the broken knuckles. It was hard for him to cause another being pain but at this point it as either him or Rosha and his preservation-mode kicked in.

He used what little training he'd learned from Colonel Sheppard and Ronon to use his unoccupied and dominant right hand to punch Rosha in the stomach, wincing when he felt a brief stab of pain in the hand. Rosha retaliated by bouncing harshly down on his right leg and Carson howled as his kneecap gave way and his back arched off the ground in an effort to express that pain.

Both men had been so lost in their own worlds of anger and pain that they hadn't heard the front door open and Lansiah's brief gasp of surprise. Lansiah had been on her way back to the cottage, happy that Sascha was doing better and looking forward to a nice night with Carson when she'd heard a cry of pain that made her heart stop and tears come to her eyes. She quickly sped her steps from a meandering walk to a sprint and had been shocked to find Rosha sitting on Carson's legs, trying to hit him. She'd paused long enough to see Rosha jump on top of Carson's right leg and to hear her lover's responding scream before she went back outside and grabbed her favorite gardening tool.

She rushed forward and swung the trowel down hard upon Rosha's head, smiling when she heard the resounding crack and cry of pain. With a strength she didn't know she had, she grabbed Rosha by the scruff of his neck and threw him out of her door. An answering double crack came just as she slammed the door shut and Rosha's own outcry of agony filtered through the door, following her as she ran back to her friend.

Carson lay on the floor not moving a muscle. His lip quivered as tears rolled down out of tightly closed eyes, splattering onto the floor before they pooled together in the cracks. His arms lay flat on the floor by his sides while his hands drew together into fists then released, then repeated, scraping the tips of his fingers along the uneven surface as they went. His breathing was ragged at best, almost whistling as it exited through clenched teeth and she could tell that his heart rate was high, far too high to be a good thing. It was obvious he was in more agony than any human should have to feel and Lansiah found herself at a loss about what to do.

Tears fell from her eyes when she saw how much pain Carson was in but she did the only thing she knew how to do in situations such as these – she analyzed the injuries so she would know how to treat them. Her gaze automatically fell to his right leg which was bent at an odd angle from the knee and she cringed and shivered to think how much it would hurt him when she examined and set the injury but she moved on. Professional, tear filled eyes, roamed over every part of Carson's body checking for signs of bruising, breaks and pain. When it seemed as though Rosha had only preferred to damage the knee and bruise Carson's face, she proceeded to debate how to tend to his leg.

She moved down to further examine his knee, grimacing when she found the joint to already be swollen and pushing against the fabric of his pants. With the speed and agility of a cat, Lansiah went and grabbed a knife then made a slit in the fabric up the side of his leg to his thigh. Ugly bruising was the first thing to greet her as she looked down at the injury. If she hadn't known that it was Carson's knee she would have thought a honeydew melon had been slipped under his skin, replacing the bones, muscles, ligaments and tendons.

A knock sounded on her door followed by a hesitantly called, "Lansiah?"

"Garleth," she called in return, not wanting to leave Carson's side, "come in, the door is open." While she waited for her friend to enter, she proceeded with her examination, trying to keep her touch as feather light as she could. Just as Garleth closed the door, Carson gave a pained whimper that seemed to last throughout the entire process. More tears fell out of his cheeks and all Lansiah could do was whisper, "I am so sorry Carson. I know this is painful but it must be done."

"What has happened to him?" Garlteth asked as he came to kneel by Carson's head.

"Rosha-" her hand touched a particularly painful spot and Carson thrashed as he cried out, his body bucking against the pain. "Hold him," she commanded Garleth who immediately placed his hands on Carson's shoulders. "Rosha attacked him. His knee was badly injured during the fight." She finished quickly, then tore some fabric from her dress and tied it around Carson's knee, making a crude brace. "Help me move him to the couch," she instructed her old friend as she leaned forward to inform her lover. She didn't know if he was even aware of what was going on but it made her feel better for doing it.

With Garleth grabbing Carson's torso, and Lansiah grabbing his legs, they lifted the injured doctor off the floor. Carson gave a long, agonized shout at the movement but soon quieted when he passed out from the pain. They were both relieved that he found this break and proceeded to move him to the bedroom.

The journey was tiring and Lansiah cringed when she felt Carson's right leg move two different directions but soon they were able to place him down onto her bed. While she elevated the injured limb and took off the wrapping she had placed on it, Garleth had gone out and grabbed some ice that had formed icicles on her roof and broke them into little pieces. Lansiah took the cloth she'd torn from her dress and fashioned it to become an ice pack that she could place on top of Carson's knee.

Lansiah asked Garleth to stay with Carson as she went to her workroom and grabbed some willow bark and mint oil. She ground the willow bark into a fine dust that she would pour into some warmed tea and diluted some of the mint oil with olive oil then headed back to Carson's room. When she saw that he was slowly starting to come around, Lansiah quickly rushed to the fireside where a pot of tea was heating and poured a small amount into the cup, mixing it with the ground willow bark. "Carson," she called gently.

"Lansiah?" Carson answered back weakly. His face hurt and he found moving his jaw sent jabs of throbbing pain through it but he barely noticed the pains over the gnawing, burning, throbbing agony that was his leg. He grimaced and groaned. "Hurts."

"I know it does, Carson," Lansiah answered, her heart breaking by just how small he sounded. "Here, drink this. It will help." She placed the cup at his lips and poured, grateful beyond measure when he drank it all down. "Rest now Carson," she cooed, giving his hand a gentle massage. He winced at her touch but soon his eyes closed and his breathing evened out.

When she was sure that Carson was sleeping, Lansiah moved down to his knee and began liberally applying the oil mixture she'd made. It wouldn't do much against the pain that was plaguing his body but it would be enough to help him rest peacefully.

"How injured is his knee?" Garleth asked in concern and sympathy. He didn't know Doctor Beckett closely but he knew just how much Lansiah cared for the Lantean. He couldn't imagine seeing his wife in the kind of pain the doctor was in and his own leg gave a twinge of empathy when his eyes roamed over the damaged limb.

"I am not sure," Lansiah answered honestly. She moved to sit by Carson's bedside, grabbing his hand into hers and giving it constant strokes. "From what I have been able to determine, the knee is broken but I fear it is much worse than that. His lower leg gives way under pressure far too easily for it to still be attached to the upper. It is as though the two portions of the limb are connected by the smallest thread and that is it."

Garleth drew in a sharp breath at her description. Such injuries were very damaging here on Hoa, they both knew it. "Should we contact his friends? Maybe they could help."

"They are supposed to be here in a couple of days."

"Lansiah," Garleth intoned gently as he placed a hand on her shoulder. "You know as well as I the kind of pain he will experience during the wait. We should not wait for them to come to us. It does not seem right to leave him in intolerable agony when we have the power to make it stop." He paused letting the truth of his words register then continued. "Let me go to the gate and bring Colonel Sheppard. It is the least I can do for the both of you."

Lansiah didn't answer right away, her mind racing through the ramifications of what waiting could mean for Carson versus what going to the gate could mean for Garleth. Carson moved in his sleep then gave a deep, mourning moan when his leg was bothered by the movement and suddenly her decision didn't seem so hard. "Go," she assented quietly. She reached into the drawer of the bedside table and pulled out a small device which Carson had called a radio and handed to him. "This will help you contact the Lanteans." She held out the radio to him and showed him the 'talk' button. "Press this when the gate has connected then ask for Colonel Sheppard when you receive contact. I will wait here for your return."

Though Garleth wanted to point out that he knew she would be here, he understood her statement to mean that she expected him to return and with help if it was possible. He nodded, grabbed the radio, then left.

Lansiah watched him go with a heavy heart. Only once she heard the front door close did she release the tears that she had been holding back from the beginning. She cried out all of her pain and frustration about what had been done to her lover then she cried out the pain of what she had been forced to do to him. Once she had finished crying, she spoke to Carson, explaining what had she had felt upon seeing Rosha attack him, how good it had felt to hit Rosha with the trowel, and how satisfying it had been to hear his bones crack as his body had impacted with the steps of her porch. She moved on to explaining what had happened during her examination and how terribly sorry she was for hurting him more. She spoke of Garleth coming to help and going to the gate to get help.

She felt the weight of her emotions weigh down her eyelids but she refused to give in. Garleth had gone to bring back Colonel Sheppard and she would be awake when they arrived. Carson moved, restless in his sleep, and another moan escaped his mouth. She brought his hand to her mouth and gave it a kiss, wishing that her kisses had magical healing powers that could heal. "Hold on Carson," she bid quietly, tears beginning to once again stream down her face. "Hold on."

* * *

><p>"<em>Control to Colonel Sheppard," <em>John's radio chirped just as Ronon swung at his face. Pain exploded in front of his eyes as the blow landed hard upon his cheek causing him to grunt and stumbled back into the wall. He gave Ronon a dazed sort of look but the Satedan merely shrugged as if to say, "Shoulda blocked."

"_Control to Colonel Sheppard, please respond." _

With a groan John picked up his radio and placed it in his ear then began to towel himself off. "This is Colonel Sheppard."

"_Sir I have someone from Hoa on the radio for you. Shall I patch him through?" _

"Is it Karloff?" John had already started heading for the Control Room and was half way there when he received his answer.

"_His name is Garleth. He says he is a friend of Lansiah's." _

John stopped in his tracks for a moment then began jogging to the Control Room. By the time he got there, Chuck was making to contact him again. He went up to the station and commanded, "Put him on."

"_Hello?" _a hesitant, old voice called through the radio.

"This is Colonel Sheppard. To whom am I speaking?" John's voice sounded official, professional but inside he was slowly beginning to feel nervous. He didn't know if the Hoan's knew that they were supposed to be there in a couple of days but he had a feeling that whatever this call was about, it wasn't good. Ronon bounded up to his place by the control panel looking as though he hadn't broken a sweat. He eyed John with a question about what was going on but since the Colonel couldn't answer he just shrugged and waiting for the other man to speak.

"_I am Garleth. I am a friend of Lansiah's, I believe you know her. There has been an accident and Docto__r Beckett has been badly injured. We believe it would be wise for you to come and help as soon as you can." _

John's heart fell but he activated his radio, "How badly is he hurt?"

"_Enough that I am chancing getti__ng stranded by a storm to contact you and request for assistance." _

The answer was simple and concise but the meaning behind it spoke volumes of the other man's annoyance that John hadn't simply agreed to it. The Colonel chewed his lip in debate, wondering whether he should just go or if he should alert Elizabeth first.

"Will he need immediate medical assistance?" Elizabeth's voice sounded from behind him making him grin. Of course she would have been notified.

"_I do not believe that his life is in any danger, no but he is in a great amount of p__ain and his leg is badly hurt. Lansiah believes the lower part and upper part are solely connected by a small thread." _The wind chose this moment to howl and the line cut off. _"Please I cannot stay here a moment longer. Will you come and help him?" _

Though they all doubted that Carson's leg was as bad as the two Hoan's believed, it was still enough to get them all moving fast. Elizabeth gave Ronon and John a nod and the two men left to grab whoever they could from the infirmary to treat Carson, grab Teyla then get ready to leave.

John heard Elizabeth say, "We are on our way Garleth.." but that was it as he turned the corner and began to prepare to leave. As he, Ronon, Teyla, Rodney, and Doctor Mary were loading onto the jumper the com device activated and Elizabeth's voice filled the machine.

"Be careful, all of you. You'll need to touch down at the gate to pick up Garleth – I told him you would give him a ride back."

"Will do Elizabeth," John answered evenly and with a nod though he knew she couldn't see it. Not wanting to waste any more time, the pilot eased the jumper through the bay doors and into the gateroom where the gate was still dialed. The machine crawled through the wormhole then gently touched down on the other side where an old, frail looking man could be found standing beside the DHD.

The rear hatch lowered and John peered out, used his hand to wave the man over then went back to the pilot's seat. By the time he'd gotten ready to go again, the Hoan was onboard and sitting on one of the benches in the back of the jumper.

John took off, forcing the jumper to fly as swiftly as it could. He wasn't altogether sure of just how badly hurt Carson was, despite the Hoan's description, but he knew that it was bad. Garleth had said there had been an accident but something in the older man's demeanor told him that the man was lying through his teeth. He hoped that no one had intentionally harmed Carson because if they did, there would be hell to pay.

**~TBC~**


	11. Of Doctors and Friends

**Part XI – Of Doctors and Friends **

Lansiah woke quickly, sitting upright and looking around with panic in her eyes. She wasn't aware of what had woken her until she heard heavy, booted footsteps coming from down the stairs and speedily heading up to where she sat. Her hand jerked as Carson's arm spasmed and he woke almost as alert as her. Only the hazed look of pain in his eyes told her that while he was aware, he wasn't truly aware of anything other than the torment his body was felt.

The door opened and a very stern looking woman walked in carrying a medical bag similar to Carson's on her back and two duffel bags in her hands. Her cold, calculating look melted slightly when she saw Carson in the bed but it was soon covered. Lansiah didn't understand why this woman didn't wan people to know she cared but if that was her desire then so be it. She instantly walked over to Lansiah's side of Carson's bed and began taking things out of all three bags, gently nudging the Hoan out of the way.

"Come Lansiah," Garleth's wise voice bid gently as his hand slowly pulled her out of the way. "Let us leave the Lanteans to their own. They know what they are doing."

"Actually we'd like to know what the hell happened," John's voice cut in stopping them both in their tracks. They were taken back by just how cold the usually genial Colonel's voice was and so remained in the room out of shock. Though his words were aimed at them his hazel eyes never left the sight of his friend in the bed.

Carson lay on the massive bed with his right leg elevated on pillows and his arms lying flat by his sides. The firelight illuminated his injured knee making the gruesome shape and deep color of the joint practically dance in and out of shadows. It was obvious to him that Carson's leg was badly messed up and though it wasn't as though it were mostly hacked off by a sword, the Colonel had no doubt that the ligaments within here almost completely disconnected from the bones. The deep bruising on the left side of his face showed horribly in comparison to the mostly white color of the right. John instantly knew that Carson had been attacked from the pattern of bruising the Scot's face alone and he felt his blood freeze at the thought.

When they went to explain, Carson let out a whimper that tore through their hearts as the stern woman prodded his knee causing them all to turn in his direction. Lansiah and Garleth were surprised to see that there was a tall, thin metal pole sitting by Carson's bed with a bag of something clear attached to it and that his shirt had been torn open and now hosted two small circular things with thin rope hanging from them leading to a machine that beeped erratically and quickly.

"Easy Doctor Beckett," the woman cooed as she looked at the machine then pulled out a vial and syringe. "I'm going to give you something to help with the pain," she explained as she seamlessly slipped the needle into his arm. "Don't worry, we'll get you fixed up." When she knew that he was sleeping once again, the woman marched over to them with enough fierceness in her aura to make them all take a step back. "He's asleep but he's in a lot of pain. I don't know what happened here but I want you all out of the room so I can work. I can't do my job with you lot jabberin' away and threatening to tear the walls down." She gave Colonel Sheppard and Ronon a particular look as she said this last but went on, "I will give you an update as soon as I know anything. Teyla, I believe I'll need your help if you can spare it."

"Of course Doctor," Teyla granted with a graciousness that wasn't lost on Lansiah. The Athosian stepped away from her group and walked over to Carson's bed, taking his hand in hers and singing such a sweet song that Lansiah felt the pain in her heart ease with the tune.

"As for the rest of you, out!" The woman, the doctor, pointed at the door with such finality that it was a wonder they didn't all march out immediately. Instead the three remaining members of Atlantis gave each other a look then looked at the doctor as though to say, _"Do you not know us at all?" _The gaze on all three of them almost made Lansiah laugh but she held it in, choosing to hide her smile behind her hand in case the stern woman noticed.

After five minutes of glaring at one another the strange woman threw her hands up in exasperation. "I don't know why I bother. You gits will do as you wish."

"Hey, we aren't gits, we're," the Colonel paused for a moment, wrinkling his brow as he thought of the correct word, "stubborn."

"And that's better how Colonel?" the woman retorted instantly drawing a smile from all in the room.

Thinking it best to get the frustrated men out of the room, Lansiah stepped forward and placed a hand on the Colonel's arm. She felt the muscles beneath her touch tighten as though the action had scared him but she realized after a look in his eyes that he was quite upset and she knew that if he ever met Rosha, the man would be lucky to be able to walk away.

"Perhaps we should leave the doctor to her work?" Lansiah suggested calmly though she felt anything but. "I can make you something to eat and give you some drink while we wait. Then Garleth and I will explain about the accident." She felt like she was betraying Carson when she called the incident an accident for what happened was not by mischance but she realized the longer she placated the angry leader, the better shot she had at getting him to comply.

The Colonel opened his mouth to argue and the two men behind him, Ronon and Doctor McKay, folded their arms over their chests very defiantly. Teyla had managed to come away from Carson without their notice and placed a hand on John's arm. "John, it is best for you to leave so that Mary can work. I do not know what she needs to do but I suspect that Carson would not wish for you to see it. And if you go down with Lansiah and Garleth you can learn of the accident and have a better report to give Elizabeth."

Ronon snorted and Rodney scoffed. Neither one cared about the report to their boss but they knew that John did. Though his loyalty to his friends would always drive him, John was still a military man - bred to follow orders and bring back however much intel he could gather.

"Fine," John gave in. "Mary let me know as soon as you know anything."

"I already said I would Colonel," the woman intoned sounding almost bored as she wrote down the symbols on the machine.

"Yeah, well, just makin' sure." John spun on his heel and left with Ronon pulling a very unwilling Rodney close behind. He was annoyed at being kicked out but even he had to agree that other than supervising – something Mary did not need – he was quite useless when it came to medicine and diagnostics. So he marched back downstairs and stood in the middle of Lansiah's cozy living room, impatiently waiting for the two Hoans to come down and start relating their tale.

Lansiah and Teyla watched the three men head out of the room, slowly followed by Garleth who didn't see a need to stay either. The two women stood calmly in the room, staring at one another for a few moments before Teyla spoke. "I am sorry for my friends. They can be pretty stubborn."

"Yeah, especially when one of you is injured," Mary interjected as she pulled out her scanner and hooked it up to her datapad.

Lansiah's brows furrowed. "Does it happen to you often?"

"It happens more than we would like," Teyla conceded, changing the phrasing so it didn't sound as bad as it was, "but we are usually blessed with having Carson around to help us heal."

"Teyla, I need you to keep an eye on the monitors for me while I scan him," Mary interrupted as she stood beside Carson's bed with her equipment. She focused on Lansiah for a minute, her eyes narrowing in concentration. "Lansiah, right? If you could come over and sit with him, your presence would probably bring him a lot of comfort."

Lansiah was surprised by how soft the woman's voice had been but simply nodded and walked over to where she usually slept. She climbed onto the bed and grabbed Carson's hand into hers, making sure to keep enough distance so she didn't disturb the doctor's work.

"You can get closer," Mary informed as the light of her scanner swallowed Carson's leg. "Just make sure to keep clear of his right leg and arm and his face. I need to scan each of those."

"Why his arm?" Teyla asked saving Lansiah from having to do so. She wasn't normally this timid but she was afraid that if she annoyed the doctor too much, the woman would kick her out.

"There's bruising on his hand. It's not bad but I'd prefer to see if there's a deeper injury underneath." She gave a very heavy sigh that could almost have been a whistle of exclamation as the data from the scan of her boss' leg came to her screen.

"What is it?" both Lansiah and Teyla asked at the same time, noticing when a deep frown appeared on Mary's face.

"It looks as though the muscles surrounding the back his knee are mainly what's keeping his leg from bending as though there aren't any muscles there at all. I don't know what happened but whatever it was created significant damage." Mary moved to begin scanning his hand and wrist then his face, leaving the magnitude of her words to weigh heavily down on the others.

"He will be alright though, right?" Lansiah asked unable to stop herself. She has suspected as much but she still wanted some reassurance - something the look on the doctor's face didn't give her.

* * *

><p>John, Ronon, Rodney and Garleth stood around the living room staring at each other. They were waiting for Lansiah to come down and join them but when it seemed that she was not to appear, Garleth let out a heavy sigh and began.<p>

"Doctor Beckett was attacked by a man known as Rosha. He is a vile man with too much self worth and not enough care for others." He paused while he waited for the Lanteans, who had moved to stand right next to each other and listen, to finish settling in. "I do now know exactly what happened but I do know that Rosha wants Lansiah to himself and is willing to do anything to get her. He visited Doctor Beckett a few weeks back and discovered the doctor's feelings for Lansiah. From what I understand he did not take too kindly to the information and came here to hurt Doctor Beckett."

"That's an understatement if I've ever heard one," Rodney said as he crossed his arms over his chest.

"Which is saying something since it's you McKay," John snapped a little too harshly. He looked back at the Hoan and tried to keep the surprise and anger from his voice. "So this is all because a man is jealous?"

"I am afraid so, yes."

John chewed on his lip, his teeth scraping across and drawing jagged lines as they went. "When can I speak to Elder Karloff?"

"It will be near impossible to see him while the storm is in effect," Lansiah answered surprising them all. They turned to find the three women coming down the stairs, eventually joining the four men in the room.

"What about the tunnels?" Ronon asked looking like he was ready to shoot someone.

"They could be used to see Elder Karloff but I am not sure he will answer his door," Garleth answered. "He does not like to receive visitors during times of cold and storm."

"Somehow I do not believe that will stop Colonel Sheppard Garleth," Lansiah said trying to hide a smile.

"Before you go breaking down doors Colonel, would you like to know the damage that has been done so you can supply them with a reason?" Mary asked her voice heavy with sarcasm and just a little bit of Elizabeth's self-assurance.

Everyone's ears perked up at her suggestion. Not that they all wanted to break down a door or two – though half of them did – they were anxious to know how Carson was doing. While Teyla and Lansiah had been upstairs with Mary and Carson they hadn't been kept up to date and were just as curious as everyone else.

When silence greeted her offer, Mary continued after a short nod. "Very well. Carson's face is a bruised mess. His left cheek bone and eye socket have hairline fractures. There's a bruise on his right hand from hitting someone but nothing is broken. His knee is the real problem." She paused to draw in a deep breath and lean against the wall. She noticed that no one was sitting down and though she wanted to, she wasn't going to be the first to grab a seat.

"From what I can ascertain his ACL and LCL are completely separated from the femur. His PCL is badly torn and his MCL is over-stretched. His patella is in pieces, there's been some damage to the lateral and medial menisci as well as several hairline fractures in the femur, tibia and fibula, and his patellar tendon has been ruptured." The group stared at her like deer in headlights making her roll her eyes and summarize. "Basically he's going to need hours of reconstructive surgery to repair all the damage that has been done."

"Shouldn't we get going back to Atlantis so they can fix all that?" Rodney asked like it was the most obvious thing in the world.

Mary looked outside at the storm settling in. "I don't think it would be a good idea to take Carson out in this. We can keep him fairly comfortable with IV pain medication and fluids and try to get the swelling to go down. It's important to get him into surgery soon but he's not in immediate danger at the moment. We can wait until the storm is done."

"Well that's fine for you to say, you don't mind be stuck on some planet. I on the other hand have a city to look after and my own bed waiting for me. I mean, do you know how bad it would be for my back if I had to stay here?" Rodney ranted on for another two minutes and his teammates allowed him to do so. They were used to his selfish jabber and had learned a long time ago to translate it as he cares.

"Rodney!" Mary called harshly, silencing the physicist with ease. She lumbered over to him, her petite form seeming to grow the closer she got. "I am not taking Carson out in this mess and risking more injury to him and that is final."

"But, well, I guess, yes of course, that makes sense."

"Good," a moan came from upstairs making all heads turn towards it. "Now if you'll excuse my I think my patient is waking up." Her prickly demeanor changed when she addressed Lansiah. "I believe your presence will be required. Consider it a given whenever he's awake."

Lansiah blushed and tried to hide her happiness at being allowed to stay with Carson while she quickly followed behind the strong, petite woman. As she went she heard one last statement from the Lanteans and the words sent shivers of excitement and dread through her heart.

"I want to speak to Karloff. Now."

* * *

><p><strong>Like it so far? Press that little review button at the bottom and let me know. ;) <strong>


	12. Messes and Visits

**Part XII – Messes and Visits**

Ronon and John walked through the winding tunnels, following the map that Garleth gave them with the light from their flashlights. They turned another corner and could tell that they were beginning to go uphill as the air began to get a little warmer. Two torches appeared in the distance and a tapestry with Karloff's family crest appeared, identifying the door before it as the Elder's.

John stepped forward and knocked, impatiently waiting for a response. They heard voices on the other side, one calm and soothing, the other angry and fast and they knew what was going on. Without bothering to think if the door was blocked on the other side, John took a step back and landed a swift, sure, angry kick right at the handle. The handle gave way easily and the door swung open, slamming against the stone wall on the other side of it.

"-she hit me with a trowel Karloff! I wasn't doing anything but trying to help the Doctor up and she hit me with it. That freiga*****."

John didn't know much about the Hoan language but he knew enough about foreign languages to recognize a slur when he saw one. His temper took hold and he stormed up to the man that was about his size and punched with a right hook. The man fell to the floor with a satisfying squeak of pain but he didn't stay there long as Ronon flew into the room and hauled him to the nearest wall, pinning him there with his taller frame.

"Great, now that he's told you his version of the story let me tell you what really happened," John began stepping toward the Elder who wore an unconcerned look on his face.

"I was not aware that there were two different versions Colonel," Karloff responded. Outwardly he was neutral but inwardly he was jumping for joy and cheering the Colonel on. Most on Hoa disliked Rosha but they were a peaceful people who abhorred violence so they did nothing about him.

"Well, I don't actually know the entire version but I do know that he left the part out where he destroyed Beckett's knee."

"Oh please," Rosha began before he was cut off by Ronon's hand clasping tightly around his throat. A growl escaped from the Satedan and he felt the imbecile shiver in his grasp.

Karloff's head cocked and his plump face drew into a frown. "What has happened to Doctor Beckett?"

"Oh you know, the usual things that happen to somebody when they've been attacked," John snapped, trying to get his breathing and anger under control. When Karloff frowned he blew out an explosive breath and continued. "His face is barely recognizable and the bones in it will take weeks to heal. His hand is badly bruised and his knee is barely holding itself together."

"I do not know what they are talking about Karloff-" Rosha tried to defend but Ronon put more strength into his hand and squeezed some more, growling, "There is no need for you to speak."

"Chewie, don't strangle him," John grudgingly bid. He turned his attention back to Karloff. "Lansiah came into her home to find him," his hand pointed at Rosha pinned to the wall and his mouth had spit out the pronoun as though it were poison he had been forced to swallow, "sitting astride Beckett, punching him repeatedly. When Beckett tried to fight back, Rosha," again the name was spat out like a curse, "pounced on his already injured knee further damaging it and driving more blows into his face. I think she's allowed to defend her boyfriend just a little don't you?"

Karloff's brow's wrinkled in confusion. "Boyfriend? I do not know this term."

"Uh it means dating, uh courting, hoping to be married one day," John explained quickly as his mind searched for the appropriate terms.

"How badly injured is Doctor Beckett?" As far as Karloff was concerned, what he'd been told was more than enough to have Rosha banned from the planet but he knew his fellow Elders liked having as much information as possible so he was obliged to try and get it.

"Bad," Ronon answered, slamming Rosha against the wall as he tried to squirm away.

"He will more than likely end up with permanent damage resulting in a limp and pain," John summarized hoping that he was actually lying. All through Mary's "doctor speak" John had gleaned enough to know that Beckett's knee was bad. He's known guys who have sustained just as much damage to their knees and were left with permanently weak knees resulting in many and many sprains. Most of the guys ended up having replacement surgery so they could get back to their lives.

Anger etched itself into every line, nook and cranny of Karloff's face. He wasn't what some would call friends with the doctor but he liked the man. He'd grown to respect him for all of his healing that he had done in the village and his patience with the most trying of people. "I see," he said in a chilling voice. "Thank you Colonel. We have sufficient testimony from you to deal with this ourselves."

"I don't think so," Ronon growled, tightening his grasp further and adding a bit more umph into his push.

"Ronon," John commanded in such a tone that no soldier would disregard. With a swift withdrawal Ronon released Rosha, smiling almost cruelly when the man fell to the ground in a heap.

Rosha got off the ground, grimacing when his injured side gave protest, and glowered at the big man before him. His teeth clenched together in anger and pain and his breath could be heard throughout the room as he said, "You will regret ever handling me. When my father-"

"-Your father has no standing in our government Rosha," Karloff reminded harshly with a snap in his voice that would have captured a fly. "And we do _not _tolerate attacks on our citizens."

"Doctor Beckett isn't a citizen," Rosha countered with a satisfied sneer.

Karloff's own mouth twisted into something resembling a smile. "You are right Rosha. As the attack was on Doctor Beckett it is within my power to turn you over to the Atlanteans for punishment. Would you rather I do that?"

John and Ronon smiled happily at the offending Hoan but their hands clenched by their sides, aching to smash into the bastard's face until they bled.

Deciding his chances were better off with the people of Hoa, Rosha gave in. "Fine. What will your punishment be?"

"As you know we do not decide punishments without the presence of the other Elders. We will convene as soon as it is possible but until then you will be confined to the dungeon that is within my home."

Two men that none of them had noticed before appeared suddenly and dragged Rosha off in the direction of the cell leaving just Ronon, John and Karloff in the room.

"Now, Colonel," Karloff addressed, "If you would be so kind, I would appreciate you taking me to see Doctor Beckett."

Ronon and John shared a look then the Colonel smirked, cocked his head and said, "As you wish."

* * *

><p>Karloff walked up the staircase in Lansiah's home with a wildly beating heart. His main reason for coming to see the doctor was to make sure that he was as injured as Colonel Sheppard had said he was. Though he had no reason to doubt the Lantean he also did not want the other elders challenging his lack of follow through and was therefore obliged to go. Not that he did not wish to see Doctor Beckett but he did not like seeing people in pain and if the doctor was as bad as he thought, he would be in an intolerable amount.<p>

He strode up to Lansiah's door, his cloak trailing behind him, and proceeded to open it, not bothering to request admittance. At first his gaze was drawn to the way Lansiah was lying on the bed next to the doctor. It was unusual for his people to be in the same bed unless they were joined but it wasn't necessarily an unwelcome sight either. He was glad that Lansiah had found a mate, someone she wished to court and perform the Union Ceremony with and he was even happier that it had been Doctor Beckett.

The next thing he noticed was the state the doctor was in. Doctor Beckett was supported in a semi-upright position with more pillows than Karloff thought Lansiah even had. The right side of his face was indeed badly bruised and his eye was swollen shut. The left eye lazily tracked the movements around him and though Karloff wasn't familiar with Lantean medicine he recognized a drugged state when he saw one. His right hand was bandaged to just after his wrist but the wrapping did nothing to conceal the bruising that trailed up the doctor's fingers or the swelling underneath it.

He saw light bruising on the doctor's exposed chest as well but what really drew his noticed was the Lantean's right leg which was elevated as high a limb should be with extra support under the exposed knee. The almost sharp point at which the joint pointed showed more than anything that indeed Colonel Sheppard had not been exaggerating. The area in and around the knee was badly swollen and bruising could be seen covering the joint and streaking down his thigh and calf. It was apparent by the height at which the leg was raised that they were trying to get the swelling in the limb to go down and he had no doubt that they had managed to. The thought made him grimaced. If they had managed to get some swelling to go down what did the knee look like before?

"Elder Karloff," Lansiah addressed in surprise as she tried to remove herself from the bed. He saw Doctor Beckett's hand uncoordinatedly move to try to stop her but it was unsuccessful.

"Please Lansiah, remain where you are. I have only come to check on Doctor Beckett." He raised a hand as he spoke, signally that she should remain and offered a smile when she did as she was bid though a blush burned brightly on her cheeks.

"And who are you?" a rather petite woman asked without the slightest amount of respect. She stood beside Doctor Beckett's bed, her auburn hair trailing down her face in wisps as it loosened itself from her bun. Stern blue eyes focused on him out of sockets lined with wrinkles from time with the intensity of someone who mistrusted anyone she met. He couldn't tell how many summers the woman has seen but if he had to guess, he would surmise that it was about as many as himself.

Karloff was actually quite young for a village Elder. At a mere forty-seven summers, he was the youngest to be appointed not only as an Elder but as the chief Elder. The others felt that someone younger than they would make a prime candidate since they were beginning to wither as their bodies grew tired of operating. He had lost his wife not three summers earlier and knew that he needed something to keep him going so Karloff had accepted their anointment and proceeded to fill his life with his work until it as all he knew. A small part of him remembered when he had once taken the time to laugh every day, to stop and talk with the people of the village he was a member of, of when he used to notice the passing of season and enjoy the changes that took place but no more. His heart gave a particularly painful ache at the life he used to lead but he brushed it away and answered her question.

"I am Elder Karloff," he introduced stepping closer to the woman and Doctor Beckett in turn. "I heard that Doctor Beckett was injured-"

"-So you thought you'd come and make sure Colonel Sheppard wasn't lying," the woman interrupted with a roll of her eyes. She made a sound that was a cross between a 'pff' and a scoff then added. "Politicians."

Karloff smiled. He liked this woman already. She is smart, strong willed and is resilient. "I will not deny that that is part of it, yes. My other Elders will wish to know that someone has seen the evidence for themselves and so I decided to make that person me. However I also wished to see how he is doing."

"Well he's been pretty badly beat up and he's in a lot pain but otherwise he's fine," the woman summarized with such simplicity that he wondered how many times she's had to do this. "Now, you've done your duty and shown your concern. You may go."

"Mary, dunnae be so mean," Doctor Beckett reprimanded in a slur. "Helluh Elder Karloff. What brings ye ta this fine establishment?"

"I have come to check on you," Karloff answered with a tolerant smile. It appeared that not only did the Doctor's accent got thicker when he was under the influence of medication but it also helped him loosen his tongue and he spoke more freely than normal. He didn't mind. After all it was better than seeing the kind man in pain. "I heard about Rosha's attack and wanted to see if you were alright."

"Aye m'fine." He frowned when his good eye trailed down to where his knee was sticking up at an odd point then amended. "Or at the very least I will be. Dunnae worry yerself with me." He closed his eye, seemingly content to rest then quickly opened it again. "Can I get you a cuppa tea?" he asked as he reached out with his bandaged hand to grab the cup that was sitting by his bedside. He winced when the weight of the cup was too much for his injured hand and proceeded to set it back down with a loud _clunk._ "These two lassies keep tryin' ta drown me in it."

"We are not trying to drown you in it," the woman replied as though she were talking to a child prone to over dramatics. "We just want to make sure take in some sort of liquid. The saline can only do so much and you would remember that if you weren't high on pain medication."

Doctor Beckett squinted with his good eye and his gruesome face changed into a look of bruised puzzlement. "Is this wha' bein' high feels like?" He squinted as though he were trying to focus. "I dunnae think I like it."

The woman raised an eyebrow. "Would you rather I lower the dosage?"

"No!" Lansiah exclaimed immediately, surprising them all.

Doctor Beckett gave her hand a heavy-handed pat. "Dunnae worry love. Mary wouldnae do it."

"If you were to lower the dosage," Karloff began ignoring the sharp looks he received from both women and the curious one he received from the loopy man, "how long would it take for the current one to wash out of his system?"

"It would probably leave his system within the hour, maybe two," the woman answered hesitantly but giving him an intrigued look.

"And could you make it low enough for him to be more coherent but not in a lot of pain?"

The woman frowned as she thought. "I could try," she said at last her voice telling she did not like the idea of doing it in the slightest, "but it's hard to predict how his body will react to medication. Carson's never really been one to take it so a dose of Percocet could do the trick or it could leave him in inexplicable pain."

"What is he on now?" Karloff asked despite his lack of knowledge on Lantean medicine.

"It's a medicine called morphine. It's enough to numb his body but it does tend to make a patient a little aloof."

"Then could you not simply lower the dose of this morphine so that he is still pleasantly numb but can actually be considered in his right mind?"

"I'm afraid I can't. Morphine is the type of medicine that makes a person with as low a tolerance for medicine as Carson loopy no matter how much he's on."

"What is this about Karloff?" Lansiah asked aware that there was something he wanted and was striving to achieve.

Karloff pivoted slightly to address his friend. "I need to speak with Doctor Beckett about the attack. I need to hear his side and I need to know what he wishes me to do with Rosha."

"Ye could always turn 'im over ta Ronon an' John," the drugged doctor responded with a half smile.

"My point exactly," Karloff responded with a small shake of his head. "If Doctor Beckett were aware enough, he would not have suggested that. Of that I am sure."

"Mary," Lansiah addressed the other woman. "How much of a chance is there that Carson will feel his injuries if you put him on the other medication?"

"You can't be serious?" the woman exclaimed shocked. "I thought you of all people would be against this ludicrous idea."

"I am," Lansiah defended harshly taking the other woman aback with her tone, "but this is how things are done on Hoa. Elder Karloff and the others need Carson's side of the tale in order to be able to pass judgment."

"S'alright Mary," Carson assured while doing his best to sound more like himself. "Give me tha lower dose. I'll alrigh' for a bit o' time."

The woman, Mary, turned her attention from Doctor Beckett, to Lansiah, to Karloff and back again, each looking at them with shock and pleading in her eyes. It made Karloff feel bad for putting her in such a position but it truly was the way things worked on Hoa. Mary threw up her hands in anger saying, "Fine! But I want all of you to know this goes against my medical opinion."

She bustled about the big room, digging into a big bag then re-emerging holding a syringe and a vial. After plunging the needle into the vial and pulled back, drawing a small amount of the medicine into it, she went over and held the tip to the plastic tubing. Her hesitance was plain and her concern obvious when she turned to Doctor Beckett and asked, "Are you sure?"

Doctor Beckett ran his good eye over the damage areas that he could see, closed it, then opened it again with determination shining through it. He took in a deep breath that sounded more like a sigh and commanded, "Do it."


	13. The Story of a Sunday

**AN: I am warning everyone right now. This chapter contains spoilers for the episode Sunday. If you haven't seen it you should get the general gist but if you have, please do not let me know if I've gotten anything wrong. I watched that episode **_**once **_**and that was enough for me. I will never ever, ever, ever watch it again so I am essentially guessing when it comes to some of the details. I apologize if some of you don't like it but that's how it is. Thank you – M.**

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><p><strong>Part XIII: The Story of a Sunday<strong>

Two hours passed before Karloff returned downstairs, and he could tell the waiting group was not happy. Of course, he'd had to wait while the medications cleared Dr. Beckett's system, and then he'd endured various interruptions from pain and Mary's irritation. When he finished his questions, the doctor immediately gave Dr. Beckett a stronger dose of medication to ease his suffering.

The Elder came down the stairs with a smile to face the angry group that now looked at him if they didn't know whether to attack him or let him pass.

"What the hell took you so long?" Colonel Sheppard demanded choosing for attack as he stepped as close as he could get.

"I apologize for keeping you waiting. We had to allow time for the medicine to clear Doctor Beckett's system before I could talk with him." Karloff almost shrank back at the Colonel and Ronon's anger at his statement but he remained still, staring at them with his best diplomatic face.

"You took him off the drugs? Are you kidding me?" their companion, Doctor McKay, exploded loudly. "Is that how you check on people here on this world? Torture them?"

"Believe me, Doctor McKay, I did not wish to cause Doctor Beckett any additional pain but my fellow Elders would not have done anything about Rosha," he spat the name out of his mouth like the vile curse it was, "until I had heard Doctor Beckett's testimony and seen him for myself. I asked the doctor up there to give him a low enough dose to have him lucid but a big enough one to provide relief." He waited for the news to register with them, happily noticing their blushing looks of apology, before he continued. "Now, if you'll be so kind, Ronon, Colonel Sheppard, I'd like to go home."

"Of course, Elder Karloff," Colonel Sheppard granted more graciously than Karloff thought was possible.

He waited until the Colonel stepped out of his way then began to lead the two Lanteans back down to the tunnels where he would sit at his desk and write out a decree for the punishment. Rosha would _not _be happy about it.

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><p>While Karloff had gone downstairs Lansiah and Mary had remained upstairs with Carson. As soon as the Elder had left, Carson's comforting doctor's face had disappeared giving way to pain and fatigue. His right hand had instantly gone to his thigh and began to massage the spasms of pain that wracked the muscles, stemming from the terrible injury to his knee. His left hand had grabbed Lansiah's hand and held on tightly. She could tell that he was doing his best not to crush it but she could have cared less if he had as long as it helped him battle his pain.<p>

"Hang in there, Carson," Mary urged with stern softness. "Help's coming soon."

Both women waiting impatiently for the medication to take hold but sure enough it did and Carson relaxed into the bed, his eyes slowly threatening to close for hours. They let him rest knowing he needed and only when his hand went lax in hers did Lansiah get off the bed and join Mary for a cup of tea, chatting quietly while they let their friend sleep.

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><p>Carson was awakened by the fire and excruciating pain in his leg to hear soft chatter off to his right. The medication Mary had been giving him had been lasting for generous stretches but he had a feeling that, thanks to the lower dose from earlier, she hadn't given him a full dose this time and his leg was slowly letting him know that. He shifted trying to get his body out of the same bored position but only managed a couple of squirms before his leg started screaming at him to stop.<p>

"Carson, are you alright?" Lansiah asked when she heard him groan, the worry in her tone plain as day. She was almost instantly by his side on the bed looking at him with anxious gray eyes. He felt bad for making her worry so much and while the whole thing was torturous to him, he suspected it was about the same to her. Seeing a loved one in inexplicable pain was very hard for anyone to endure but she had borne it with such strength that she didn't even know she had.

"He's fine, Lansiah," Mary responded, ever the calm one. "He just needs his next dose. Am I right?"

"Aye, that you are," Carson responded wincing at how gruff and tight his voice sounded. Pain was beginning to pulse throughout his right hand at he used both fists to draw in as much of the blanket beneath him as they could and give a good, tight squeeze.

Mary nodded and pulled out a prepared syringe from her pocket, administering it into his IV line with professionalism and grace. "There you should start to feel better soon. When you do I want to give you a more in-depth exam. I want to make sure that Rosha didn't do any other damage or exacerbate any previous injuries."

The look she gave him at the end of the sentence told him she was talking about his back and he was grateful to her for being so general about it but he knew that Lansiah would catch on and she deserved to be told. She needed to know what he looked like beneath the clothing. He was sure she wouldn't care about the scars but he still felt he needed to give her some sort of warning first.

Being a doctor, Mary knew that the medicine wouldn't take long to kick in so before Carson had a chance to say anything or Lansiah had a chance to ask anything she'd returned and began to help him sit up so she could check his lungs and inspect his back. He gave a hiss when his lower back was stretched and Mary just gave him a knowing look. She'd pretty much guessed that he had also exacerbated his previous back injury, and this was just about confirming it.

She gently peeled away the shirt from his back, glad that she had simply used scissors earlier so that this part was easier to do, and barely managed to hide a pointed look at Lansiah when the Hoan gave a very audible gasp.

White and pink scars riddled Carson's back varying in size and location. The biggest of them resided over the left side of his lower back, stretching half way across it. Some of the scars seemed to be layered on top of skin that looks as though it had once been badly burnt and had left scars of its own behind. Mary pulled off Carson's shirt, careful of his arms as she did it, revealing more scars, about one quarter in number, and burns.

"Caraja Paran," Lansiah breathed praying to the Ancients they don't take offense at her exclamation. She put a hand on Carson's shoulder, now extraordinarily careful of where she touched, and slightly turned him to look at her. "Carson, what happened?"

Carson gave Mary a wary look, asking her if she would be okay. She had just arrived in the Pegasus galaxy a few days before that fateful Sunday and was still trying to learn her way around. When Dr. Cole had gone back to her quarters with a migraine, Carson had gladly taken over and called Mary in to continue training while things were slow. She had been terrified when the first explosion hit but had stayed off to the sides, watching everything with determined concentration. She had watched nervously as he exorcised the tumor from the young man and she had been the one that had gotten the chore of patching him up later on.

"I'll be fine," Mary assured as she gave his bare arm a comforting pat. She went back to her examination, pressing every tender spot he might have as she went. Since she already knew that his back was hurting, she started from just above the spot and moved upwards, somewhat giving him a massage as her fingers walked along his back and across his shoulders.

"Carson, what is it?" Lansiah asked sensing something traumatic had happened to them both.

"As I'm sure you know, life on Atlantis is full of weeks on end with situation after situation and the powers that be decided to give us all a day off to relax and maybe get to know one another." He smiled warmly at the next memory. "Rodney and I were supposed to go fishing, but he ended up being busy with something else, so I went 'round the city looking for someone to fish with. Sadly they were all busy or didn't want to go, so I ended up at my home away from home – the infirmary. Doctor Cole had developed a migraine and I gladly told her to go get some rest, things would be fine. I had no idea how wrong I would be.

"The first explosion rocked the inhabitants of the city to their knees, literally and soon the chaos began. Teyla was badly injured during the blast so she took first priority over others and I very steadily worked my way through them while Rodney and Doctor Zelenka worked on solving the 'why' of the situation. They alerted me to the problem of exploding tumors within a person's body and who would be next. We got to him just in time and rushed him into surgery…."

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><p><em>Carson's hands shook as he deftly removed the ticking time-bomb from the man on his operating table. His head pounded furiously from the strain of the day but he refused to concentrate on it as he worked to save the man's life. Plopping the tumor into the hazard container he breathed a sigh of relief and communicated with Colonel Sheppard what was going on. He could hear through the Colonel's voice how angry he was that Carson was not allowing him to protect him but he didn't care. What mattered was saving the lives of those on the base – not his own. <em>

_When he realized that the sergeant wouldn't make it to them in time, he wasted no time in heading through the nearest door intending to meet him as far away from the infirmary as he could. He handed off the container with a sigh of relief then spun around to go. _

_The explosion happened just as he was turning the corner, slamming him to the ground and into the opposite wall with the force. He hadn't had time to cry out as he felt searing pain stab through every part of his backside, arms and legs and hadn't been prepared for the burning agony and the smell of roasting flesh as the flames reached his exposed body. A beam from the ceiling overhead came crashing down across him, landing mostly diagonal across his back starting at his left shoulder but the force of the blow to his head was enough to knock him blessedly unconscious. _

_He awoke three weeks later staring into the very anxious, worried, and angry eyes of his friends who had been keeping constant vigil over him since the minute they'd found him. Mary came over to shoo everyone out of the room so she could examine him and check his wounds, asking for Ronon to stay and help since Carson was very weak and could not support himself. _

_While she examined him, pressing on every extremely tender spot Carson had, Mary told him about how it had taken them a day to find him. It was a horrible shock to find that it had taken them so long – after all he'd always assumed that his friends, his family would come for him no matter what – but when he discovered that the reason for the delay had been because they all had presumed him dead, his heart broke for them all. He knew the pain of losing a loved one and he hoped it would be a long time before any of his friends had to feel that pain. _

_Mary allowed visitors in one or two at a time, wanting to give each person their privacy with him and each person told him about how happy they were to see him awake and well. Rodney babbled in his usual uncomfortable way about everything that had been going on since the accident, never saying what he actually felt but Carson got the meaning behind it all. _

_Ronon was his usual quiet, gruff self but Carson could see the joy and concern the Satedan felt shining brightly in his eyes. _

_Teyla was next, shuffling gingerly in so as not to stress her still healing abdomen muscles. She alternated singing and talking to him depending on how often the stabs of pain came but always providing soothing comfort. _

_Elizabeth talked of everything under the sun and then some but he didn't mind. He knew she was never comfortable with sick or injured people especially if they were her friends. _

_John was the last to come but he stayed the longest. He openly talked of how glad he was that Carson was still alive and mostly okay then he went on to explain the services that had been held for those who had died during the accident then he moved on to how angry he was that Carson had put himself in that situation. Carson laid there and let him rant knowing he needed to get things out in the open and release the burden he'd been carrying around the past three weeks. After he finished Carson painfully reached out his hand and grabbed John's shaking ones. He assured the Colonel that he had nothing to feel guilty about and this was just one time that he couldn't protect everyone. _

_When everyone had finally left, leaving Carson by himself to get some rest, the doctor collapsed into an exhausted, agonized heap against the bed, waiting for the nurse to bring him some pain relief so he could get some rest. At long last, the nurse came and sleep overtook him to a wonderful place where there was no pain just peace._

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><p>Lansiah sat on the bed listening to his story with her mouth hanging open in a permanent gasp and her hand hovering just in front of it. It was horrible to learn of the pain her lover had gone through and how much he and those around him had suffered from the whole ordeal. Carson's eyes softened as they focused on her hand and she looked down to realize she was shaking. So many emotions swam through her that she couldn't decide which to focus on and her muscles were letting her know of the stress it was causing on them to wait.<p>

"How long did it take you to recover?" she asked in concerned wonder as she lowered her hand into her lap.

"Oh, about six months to be able to walk properly. The beam that had fallen had caused some pretty extensive damage to my leg so it took a wee bit longer than I would have liked."

"What he means to say is that the beam landed on some shrapnel that had embedded itself into his shoulder, lower back, and leg effectively driving them further into his body," Mary interpreted for him, though Lansiah could tell by the thin line of his lips as his mouth shut closed that he hadn't wanted her to say anything.

"But you are alright now, are you not?" Lansiah asked him, practically begging him to say he was fine and she hadn't been unknowingly causing him pain for the past couple of months.

"Aye Cara, I'm fine," Carson assured, stroking her cheek with his free, uninjured hand. Mary cleared her throat behind him and he sighed heavily then continued. "The worst of the injuries can act up when they've been over stressed or if the weather's bad," he proceeded to avoid her eyes at this part but soon returned them with a new blush to his features, "but for the most part, I'm fine."

"When the weather's bad," Lansiah began working out, "so you mean that when the weather's damp like it has been the entire time you've been here?"

"Yep!" Mary intoned from behind Carson, making him flinch at what he knew would come.

Lansiah wanted nothing more than to lecture him about not telling her but she also understood why he did not. She had been very motherly towards him ever since he became injured and he didn't want to give her another injury, or three, to fret over. She sighed and lowered her head. If he hadn't been so worried about telling her, she could have prevented some days of pain.

His soft, capable hand grabbed her chin, gently forcing her to look at him. Loving blue eyes pierced her soul, threading the truth within them through the holes of her heart as he spoke. "You have nothing to blame yourself for, love. Do you hear me? I'm fine. I promise if it's bad enough, I'll tell you but until then trust me alright?"

She nodded, trying to wipe the tears out of her eyes as she spoke. "What are these injuries? Perhaps it would do me well to know of them?"

"Aye, perhaps it would," Carson conceded tiredly. It had taken him the better part of an hour to get through his story and he now lay exhausted against the pillows that supported him. An extra pillow had been provided behind his lower back, giving extra support as it helped to take some strain of his hurting muscles.

Seeing that the doctor needed to get some rest, Mary spoke up. "A piece of shrapnel entered his left shoulder blade, lodging itself into the bone. The blade broke into several pieces as the weight of the beam forced it further in. It was stopped from exiting the front of his chest by his collar bone which had fractured on impact. Another piece of shrapnel had lodged itself into his lower back, tearing through the latissimus dorsi muscle and nicking his kidney. When the beam fell, it drove that further in to slice open his small intestine. He was barely alive when we found him but thankfully he fought to live." There was a pregnant pause where they all realized Mary was putting her own feelings and experiences into her explanation but none commented on it. Mary cleared her throat and continued. "The last of the injuries helps to explain why the damage done from the fight with Rosha is so severe. The final piece of shrapnel entered through the back of his knee. Had the beam not fallen on it, it would have been fine but the weight pushed it completely through his leg, barely missing the artery and vein that is there before it shattered his patella. We had to call in our orthopedic surgeon in to repair the damage that had been done."

"The physical therapy was purgatory on Atlantis, I'll tell you that," Carson mumbled from his sleeping position.

"Mm," Mary agreed as she watched him slowly fall asleep. "It's why I fear this time they may actually want to perform a knee replacement instead of a reconstruction. But that does not matter to you right now because you're asleep."

Lansiah turned to her right to find that indeed Carson was sound asleep. She placed a soft hand on his cheek using her thumb to rub little circles on it then leaned it and gave his forehead a kiss.

"Come on," Mary quietly suggested, "let's go get ourselves and those downstairs some food before Rodney faints from manly hunger."

Having heard the story of when Rodney had attached a mysterious device the Ancients had left behind and had fainted sometime before they were able to get it off, Lansiah laughed and moved off the bed. "Will he be alright by himself?"

"Yeah, he'll sleep for awhile. Telling that story, no matter how important, always takes a lot out of him. I'm glad he told you though."

Lansiah turned her head in the direction of her bed, giving her burdened lover one last final glance then closed the door. "I am too."

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><p><strong>There ya are - the latest chapter. I hope all of you are still enjoying it and are happy with the explanation I gave. ;) Don't forget to click that little link down there that says "Review" and tell me what you thought!<strong>


	14. Family

**Part XIV – Family**

Lansiah and Mary walked down the stairs to find most of the group in the kitchen. Ronon was at the spit roasting some meat and keeping an eye on a boiling pot while John and Teyla were at the work table cleaning and dicing potatoes, greens and squash. The smell of freshly baked bread with garlic and rosemary in it wafted through the main floor of the home coaxing each one into a sense of family that one can't always find on Atlantis.

The two women spared a look at Rodney who was sitting in front of a fire working on his data pad before they entered and joined in. Mary was allowed to help but the Lanteans quickly shooed Lansiah out of the room saying that she had been doing plenty and it was their turn to take care of her. She smiled at their sentiment but found she couldn't relax. Realizing that everyone would need a place to sleep she quickly went up to the spare room and stripped the bed then began putting on new sheets.

Sometime in between applying the bottom sheet and the top sheet her hands began to shake and she saw tears splatter onto the cream colored linens. Her chest tightened painfully and she found it hard to breathe or swallow. She sat on the bed with the top sheet in her hands, wrapping around her shaking form like silk as she curled onto the bed and started to weep. Her sobs wracked through her shaking form but she was careful to keep them quiet should Carson hear from the next room.

The mattress dipped as another person joined her but she couldn't find the energy to care nor did she move when a soft hand was placed on her back and began rubbing soothingly. Her mind just kept running over everything she had learned in the past few months about Carson.

It didn't seem fair that he had suffered so much already and was still being forced to suffer more. She couldn't – and didn't want to – imagine the agony he'd experienced during the explosion but she was infinitely grateful that she hadn't been around to see him struggle as he recovered. Sounds of his pain echoed through her ears and she thought about him going through physical therapy with the injuries he'd received and she clasped her hands over her ears and shut her eyes tightly against the sounds. Her heart couldn't take the pain – his pain. It wanted to break and never get back together again.

Then on top of that Rosha had to come to her home and hurt him so cruelly. It was just too much! Her breathing came out harsher the more she thought and she could tell that her sobs had grown in volume but no matter how much a part of her mind begged her soul to stop for Carson's sake – it couldn't. A dam had broken and now it needed to be emptied before it could be repaired.

Time didn't seem to exist as she cried her heart out but soon she found her sobs quieted of their own accord as the reserve dried out. A sigh of relief swept through the warm comforting room, releasing the burdens of anger, sympathy, and pain from her soul was it went.

Lansiah felt as though she could sleep for days and while she wasn't sure anyone would blame her if she did, she did not wish to leave her guests to their own devices. Using that to make her muscles move again, she sat up to stare into understanding blue eyes of Mary. The woman hadn't said a word during Lansiah's release and for that she was grateful. Words, though sometimes well-meant, were useless in times like these. All a person really needs to know is that someone is there with them to share the burden.

The salty smell of pork filled the room and the two women inhaled deeply, appreciative smiles creeping onto their faces as their minds registered that the meal must be ready. The two women quickly finished making the bed and headed out the door to the main floor.

"You go ahead, I'll be down in a minute. I want to check on Carson before I eat," Mary softly called in case said man was asleep.

Lansiah frowned slightly, "Perhaps I should go with you."

"No Lansiah," Mary objected instantly but not unkindly. "I'm sure he's fine, I just want to have a quick peek at his vitals. I'll let you know if I need you."

The Hoan wanted to argue but she nodded instead, realizing that she was hovering again, and went down the stairs to join the others.

Mary watched Lansiah's exit with sympathetic eyes. She knew exactly how the other woman felt for though she was not romantically involved with Carson, he was a dear friend and she felt almost the exact same way during the incident and recovery. When she was sure that Lansiah was downstairs, Mary quietly opened the door, unsurprised to see Carson sitting in bed with his eyes open and sadness in them.

"I take it you heard?" she asked as she walked into the room and stood by her friend's bed, checking the monitors and fluid levels.

"Aye," Carson answered with a crack in his voice. He had woken up to the sounds of someone weeping in the next room; it hadn't taken his mind long to figure out whom it was and his heart broke at the thought. He'd wanted nothing more than to get out of the bed and go and hold Lansiah and comfort her but his body's limitations were great at the moment restricting him from moving more than an inch.

"She'll be fine Carson," Mary assured, giving his shoulder a pat. "It's hard at first to learn that someone you love has been through such an ordeal and she needed to deal with it on her own." She looked down to find regret in his dull eyes and she shook her head comprehension. "You couldn't have done much for her you know?"

"Aye there is!" Carson replied with more vehemence than she had ever heard him use. "I could have been there. I could have held her while she cried, I could have-"

"-she didn't want you there Carson," Mary interrupted sternly, wincing at the hurt that clouded his eyes and covered his face. "If you had been there, she wouldn't have been able to release feelings that desperately needed to be free. If you had been there, she would have continued to hold it in until it was too much for her. You wouldn't want her to do that would you?"

"No I wouldn't," Carson grudgingly conceded. He let out a heavy sigh and relaxed into the pillows that supported him, leaning his head back and closing his eyes.

"Good," Mary answered with a satisfied nod. "Now do you want something to eat before you go back to sleep?" She thought he needed to eat but she also understood that extreme pain in compliance with the medicine that one took to get rid of it could also disappear and appetite faster than a magician can pull a bunny out of a hat.

"Aye, thank you," Carson answered tiredly. "But go ahead and eat first. I can nap while I wait."

Mary nodded understanding that the only reason he was going to eat was because _he _knew he needed to. She gave everything one last check before she left to go join the others. She would send Lansiah up here with some food later.

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><p>All throughout the meal, Lansiah kept looking around at the people surrounding her table with amusement, wonder, and a bit of something else in her eyes. She couldn't tell right away what the feeling was for it had been a while since she had felt it but by the time dinner was over and the group dispersed she figured it out while watching them move about as one, automatically assigning one another duties without speaking. It was the feeling of being a part of a family.<p>

While the others cleaned up and Rodney returned to his data pad, Lansiah went back upstairs to continue prepping the spare room. There was enough room for the spare cot to fit in it as usual but after that she was at a loss as to how to house the others. She knew Colonel Sheppard and Teyla would take the bed leaving the spare cot for one that wants it but that meant there were still two people that she needed to find beds for.

As her mind thought of a solution for the problem she went about setting out fresh towels in case they would wish to wash before bed and filling the firewood. She brought up an extra pot for water and placed the ceramic bowl of ground tea leaves onto a table that sat next to the fireplace. Remembering the mix of people she would later remind herself to bring out something stronger should it be desired instead.

She came down to find the group lazily sitting around the fire enjoying the quiet. When she looked around she noticed that Ronon was not there and so inquired after him. "Where is Ronon?"

"He went to Garleth's to see if he has a spare cot or two," Teyla responded as John played idly with her hair. They were curled together on the long couch and making Lansiah jealous that it were not she and Carson there instead.

The big man himself appeared not five minutes later through the cellar door. "Garleth says McKay and I can stay with him tonight."

"Garleth," Lansiah began only to be cut off by Colonel Sheppard.

"Good, then Mary can stay in our room close to Carson. Tell him thank you for us when you go back."

"Already did," Ronon replied shortly leaning against the door frame of the kitchen with his arms crossed over his chest.

"Whoa, hold on just a minute!" Rodney objected loudly, finally joining the conversation for the first time in hours. His face was slack as though he was shocked but his blue eyes burned with annoyance and indignation. His data pad lay all but forgotten on his lap, surrounded protectively by his left arm with his hand curled around the top to stop it from falling off. Waving his right arm in every direction it could find with his right thumb bent like it normally was when he was making a point, the physicist continued on. "Why do I have to go stay with Conan and Farmer John? Why don't you go stay with them and I'll stay here with Carson?"

"Because Rodney," John began, his voice dipping as he spoke the scientist's name. "I don't think Teyla wants you sleeping in the same bed with her and, quite frankly, I'm not too crazy about the idea either. Mary needs the spare cot in case Carson needs her so that one's out of the picture. So unless you want to sleep on the sofa here," he gave the soft cushioning a firm pat, "you're going to take Garleth's offer and you're going to be gracious about it."

The Colonel's eyes were friendly enough – as was the smile on his face – but Lansiah heard the threat in his tone. She hadn't known Dr. McKay long but she knew that even _she _would heed Colonel Sheppard's words if he had told her to do something in that tone. Lansiah folded her arms in front of her and patiently waited for the conversation to end. Savory scents reached her nose reminding her that Carson needed to eat but she did not wish to be rude and simply walk away when the others were talking.

Rodney deflated under Sheppard's tone and sat back in the armchair, making sure to give a spectacular pout and glare before he went back to his work. He knew that Carson didn't need constant companionship, he didn't even need constant supervision, but Rodney still liked the idea of being close by for updates and to keep an eye on one of the only friends he had. The idea of being sent to stay somewhere else stung deeply but it wasn't in his nature to admit that out loud so he remained silent and sulked in front of the fire.

Lansiah watched the physicist as he quieted and leaned back into her favorite chair, throwing a final glare at Colonel Sheppard with something akin to shame and hurt in his eyes. She understood his feelings better than most thought. If someone had told her she would be staying anywhere else other than her bed tonight, the Hoan probably would have thrown a fit big enough for the entire village to hear. She wished there was something she could say to Dr. McKay to offer some sort of comfort but words failed her.

Her socked feet barely made a sound as she crossed the living area to her kitchen where she went about preparing a meal for Carson. When she lifted her arm to grab a ceramic bowl her nose wrinkled in distaste. It had been a very long, stressful day full of activity and worry. Lansiah knew she needed a bath but she hated to leave Carson on his own – whether it be with friends or actually alone – for too long.

A part of her couldn't help but worry about the Scotsman. Witnessing the horrible levels of his pain had been terrifying and took more strength than she knew she had. She had been relieved when he'd passed out but a small part of her had cried when it realized that it was because he was in so much agony his body couldn't handle it anymore. Relief wasn't a strong enough word to describe how she felt both when Garleth offered to go to the gate and when the Lanteans had come and had been able to immediately ease Carson's pain.

Water splashed upon her hand, spreading little droplets down the side of her hand and landing on top of her counter. She quickly wiped the wetness across her gown, effortlessly ridding any evidence that it had been there.

"Are you alright?" Teyla's voice asked gently as the Athosian walked into the kitchen.

The bowl in her hands fell to the floor, clattering loudly against the stone, as she jumped, startled at the sound of the woman's voice, and her hands released their hold of it. She drew in a gasp of surprise but quickly recovered. She offered a blush of embarrassment as she looked at the Athosian. "I am fine."

Teyla raised a challenging eyebrow clearly not believing the lie Lansiah just told her but she chose to let it slide and offered a small smile and a nod. She bent down and picked up the forgotten bowl then handed it back to Lansiah. "Is there something I can help you with?"

"No thank you," Lansiah objected with an assuring smile. "I just wanted to grab a small amount of dinner for Carson. I am not sure that he is hungry but he needs to eat to keep his strength up."

"That he does," Mary intoned surprising both women.

Lansiah placed a hand on her chest where her heart was currently beating frantically in fear. If these people kept up with the surprise tactics she would have a heart attack before the night was done!

"Sorry," Mary said with a smile that suggested otherwise. "Didn't mean to scare you. The testosterone level in there is getting too high for my liking so I thought I'd come in and see what you two were up to."

"We were just talking," Teyla supplied before Lansiah could speak.

"And grabbing a bite to eat I see." Mary eyed the bowl of food in Lansiah's hand with a sparkle in her eyes. She turned her gaze to look into even slate eyes with approval shining in her own blue irises. "Go ahead and get that to Carson before he changes his mind. I'll stay down here with these guys," she nodded her head towards the living area, "and maybe grab my own snack-size portion as well."

Grateful for an excuse to get back up to Carson, Lansiah merely gave each woman a smile, gathered up the folds of her dress and walked up to her room. She wasn't sure if Carson would be able to feed himself but she didn't care – she'd spoon feed him if it meant getting him some sustenance.

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><p><strong>Sorry for the delay with this chapter. My muse has seemed to disappear so getting out each new chapter has been getting harder. On that note - how do you like the story so far? Click that link down there that says "Review" and let me know! Maybe it will help said absent muse to come back sooner. ;) <strong>


	15. Happiness and Atlantis

**Part XV: Happiness and Atlantis**

Carson lay on Lansiah's bed lightly dozing. The pain rampaging through his body with every hint of a movement made any form of deep sleep impossible for the moment so the Scot contented himself with listening to the sounds coming from the floor below him.

Laughter echoed through the kitchen bringing a tired grin to his face and comfort to his heart. He recognized every single one of those laughs but none stood out quite as much as Lansiah's. He'd heard it often over the past couple of months and each time his heart filled with joy.

The laugh was always rich, coming from deep in her throat and rumbling through her chest, spreading infectiously with each vibration. Being a doctor, Carson had learned how to pick up on the normal signs of distress, happiness, dishonesty but every time Lansiah laughed or smiled in response to him, not only did her face crease beautifully with the grin but her slate eyes lit up to a bright silver, warming every part of his being with their heat. It usually took all his strength not to gather the Hoan into his arms, hold her and bury himself into her every time. Tonight he was too worn out to move too much so the feeling didn't fully come upon him but he did feel the normal warmth the laugh caused and he gave a smile as it helped dull down the slowly growing pain.

Things got quiet as the group below dispersed and Carson heard soft, familiar footsteps coming up the stairs then into the spare bedroom that had been his for many nights. Shuffling from within the room told him that Lansiah was bustling about making sure things were set up in there for guests then the solid door closed and the footsteps retreated leaving him once again alone in the floor upstairs.

Ronon's distinct mumbling reverberated through the floorboards followed by the Colonel's sharp commanding tone and Carson couldn't help but try to strain his ears in hopes of understanding what was being said. He gave a sigh of annoyance when he realized just how futile the act was since the flooring in the room was solid brife laid upon stone and soon relaxed as much as he could against his pillows, allowing the sounds of friends and family lull him into nothingness.

Rodney's distinct indignant voice rang through the downstairs, startling him out of his light doze and his eyes focused on the nothing in front of him. He winced in sympathy for those on the main floor. If Rodney's voice was loud enough to make his mind think the physicist was right in front of him, Carson could only imagine how loud he actually was.

John's voice stabbed through the silence in Lansiah's room like a hot knife through butter and Carson couldn't help but shrink away from the tone. He knew it well. The Colonel had tried to use it on him a time or two when it came to infirmary stays and while it had taken all his strength not to shake with intimidation, Carson had remained equally as stubborn and easily just as angry. He didn't know what Rodney was arguing about but the Scot _did _know that he had managed to get on John's patience which was a statement in and of itself. While his patience wasn't unlimited, John Sheppard did have more of it when it came to Rodney McKay than any other person in two galaxies.

The sharp tones and indignant arguments quieted to soft murmurs and Carson found himself visibly relaxing with the change. His head leaned once again against the headboard and his eyes closed seemingly of their own accord. His breathing evened as much as it could and soon he was swirling his way down to restful darkness.

Someone cleared their throat and Carson's piercing blue eyes opened immediately, focusing on a blushing Lansiah who was walking into the room with a tray in her hands and apology in her posture.

"I am sorry to wake you," she said as she placed the tray on her side of the bed. She walked around to his side and cleared off the sizable table that held lots of things while holding nothing at all. When her task was finished she walked back over and grabbed the tray, bringing it to the now clear table then sat down in the vacant chair by his bed.

Night had fallen, lending inky blackness to the corners of the room and shadows to the unlit portions of furniture and faces. As she looked at Carson, she thought she saw pain and sadness in his eyes but in the dim lighting it was almost impossible. Carson's eyes could be brighter than thirty suns given the right circumstances but when he wanted to hide things, they could be darker than night and better guarded than a castle. For a moment she thought about lighting a candle but when he looked at her, none of the feelings she saw earlier were there so she dismissed it as her imagination playing tricks on her.

Carson gave her a tired smile, his gaze flickering from her beautiful face to the meal she had brought with her. A bowl of stew, more broth than solid food, sat in the middle of the tray with a small piece of bread about half the size of a baguette sitting nonchalantly off to the right. A metal cup of water sat in the upper left of the tray, diagonally across from the bowl drawing a questioning gaze from him.

"Mary said that you should drink more water and less tea." Lansiah's apologetic blush deepened as though she believed she should have known that but Carson paid no mind to the reason. He couldn't concentrate on anything except how the deep crimson accented Lansiah's perfectly delicate cheekbones and brightened her eyes.

"Aye, I'm sure I do," Carson conceded with a heavy sigh as his hurting body brought him back to reality with a painful thud. Despite his efforts to hide it, a grimace creased his face as his teeth clenched together. The more he remained silent, the harder it was to ignore the fact that the medication was starting to wear off but he couldn't bring himself to ask Lansiah for help. She had done enough for him over the past few months that it seemed wrong to ask her for more.

But Lansiah being Lansiah and fully aware of anything that involved Carson already knew something was amiss and she got up at his show of pain and went to go fetch Mary. She hated that she needed the Lantean woman to help her but she wasn't knowledgeable enough about Earth medicines as of yet to be of any use. Just as her hand reached the handle on the door, Carson's voice stopped her.

"Lansiah, don't go." The words were out of his mouth before his mind could stop them and he winced at how desperate they sounded. It wasn't that he didn't want to be left alone – well he didn't but that wasn't the reason he didn't want her to go – but he just wanted to spend some time with _her. _Not Mary, not Colonel Sheppard, nor Ronon, nor Rodney, nor Teyla – just her.

Though he hadn't said anything yet, Carson knew he'd need to go back to Atlantis and more than likely they would keep him on the city until he was recovered enough to leave. Unlike the last time, it would take him longer to heal from this surgery since there was more work being done and he had a sneaky suspicion that his infirmary staff would be tempted to strap him to a bed until he can walk again just to make sure that he wouldn't need another surgery any time soon.

It was a weight that he found had settled rather uncomfortably in his heart, dragging the muscle down to his stomach but he couldn't bring himself to say anything. Sure things weren't exactly perfect as they were – he was injured after all and Lansiah was once again being forced to take care of him – but they were still tolerable enough to bring some small amount of comfort. He didn't want to leave the place he'd grown to call home – though Lansiah didn't know this yet – and he definitely didn't want to leave her. But there was nothing he could do to stop either from happening – he had to go.

"Carson what is wrong?" Lansiah's concerned voice asked bringing him from his unhappy thoughts. He stared into her blue-gray eyes and for a moment lost himself in their depths, seeing concern as expected but also pain, determination and strength.

He gave her a pained smile and a pat on the hand before he used his right hand to point towards the medicines that Mary brought. "If you could grab that vial there for me, I'll be fine."

Lansiah hesitated, giving him an inquiring raised eyebrow before she conceded and did as he asked. It was awkward trying to insert the syringe first into the vial then into the IV line but eventually Carson managed it and soon relaxed against the pillows of the bed. As the pain abated, his appetite grew along with the feeling of being extremely drunk. He hated strong pain medication for the loopy feeling but at this point in time he knew it was a necessity.

"Do you think you can eat?" Lansiah asked softly as she grabbed the bowl of stew. She stood beside the bed, holding the bowl in her hands and not making a move to give it to him.

"Aye, I think so," Carson answered with a sigh. He tried to reposition so he was actually sitting upright rather than slouching but his limbs refused to cooperate.

"Here, let me help." The words themselves were gentle but there was a humor in Lansiah's tone that made Carson blush in embarrassment. He noticed that as she helped him move she was careful of touching any scar that littered his back and he began wondering if he should talk to her again about the whole thing. Mary's words rang through his ears, reminding him that he probably wouldn't get a straight answer from the Hoan so he decided to remain silent, allowing Lansiah her privacy and secrets.

Once Lansiah was done fluffing his pillows so they supported him better, Carson began scooting backwards against them. Despite the recent administration of pain medication his breath hitched as his knee was jostled with the movement but the agony didn't last long and was soon gone.

When Lansiah noticed the difficulty he was having with his leg, she gently grabbed his calf, holding the leg still while allowing him to move backwards towards the headboard. She waited until he was finished scooting then gently slid the pillows under his leg out and gave them a quick but efficient fluff before replacing them again.

"Better?" she asked with a hint of a laugh in her voice but nothing but concern in her eyes.

"Aye," Carson answered, grabbing her wrist as she started to turn away. He carefully pulled her down onto the bed by his hip, cupped the back of her head and drew her closer to him. His thumb had a mind of its own as it tenderly caressed her cheek, ending over her lips and he found he couldn't ignore their calling any longer. Their lips met with a gentle passion that both wished wasn't needed. Carson put everything he felt into the kiss and he mentally smiled when he felt Lansiah do the same.

The need to breathe soon caught up with both of them and they pulled apart, breathing heavily.

"Thank you Cara," Carson whispered gruffly. His hand remained where it was, intertwined in her hair at the base of her skull and his fingers began dancing in and out of the strands, his nerves almost shivering from the pleasurable feeling of their silkiness.

Her breath hitched in response but she remained quiet. She gave a nod of "You're welcome" then grabbed the bowl, waiting until he took it and began eating before she stood and seated herself in the chair next to the bed. As she sat, she began to feel awkward and restless so she stood to bustle about the room. The wind from the raging storm outside pushed against the window shutters making them bang about in response.

An unconscious shiver ran through Lansiah in response to the sounds and the cold breeze sailing through the cracks. She walked over to her closet and grabbed the light cloak that she often used as a shawl or sweater and wrapped it tightly around her. As she looked around to check on Carson's comfort, she realized just how dim the light within the room had become and she immediately went over to the hearth and breathed new life into the fire, lighting more kindle and putting more logs on top of it. Crackling soon filled the room as the flames licked and burned the wood.

Despite the warmth coming from the hearth, Lansiah still felt a cool breeze sweeping through the room. She went and grabbed a spare blanket from the closet and placed it gently over Carson, careful not to put too much of the blanket's weight on his knee as she wrapped it around his waist, legs and feet. When he gave a small sigh of relief, she knew he was more comfortable and so sat back down next to the bed, taking the partially empty bowl from his hands and setting it on the tray as she sat.

Silence descended upon the pair as they sat in the respective places, covering them in its uncomfortable quiet. The fire gave another crackle and the flames brightly lit the room for a brief moment as the logs began settling down upon the stone flooring of the hearth. In that one small moment, Lansiah saw Carson's face clearly for the first time since she came up.

Underneath the deep bruising of his face, bags of tiredness stood out painfully clear under his eyes darkening the sockets more than normal. His eyelids could barely stay open long enough to focus on her and his breathing was slowing as though it was too much work to draw in breath. It hurt her to see him so weak and in so much pain. Carson Beckett is a wonderful man; caring, kind, and compassionate – he shouldn't be bedridden and in excruciating pain.

Still, beneath the signs of obvious exhaustion and slowly fading pain, Lansiah could see something was bothering him. Though he had pretended not to know what she was referring to earlier, she knew he had and was trying to skillfully ignore her. Normally she would let him be but at this moment, she found it hard to let anything go and asked, "What is the matter Carson?"

Carson let out a heavy sigh, sounding as though he were trying to release his frustrations with that one breath. It made her nervous to hear it but she remained still and quiet. Her training in the wilderness taught her patience and tact where her society would have taught her otherwise and at this moment in time, she was currently very thankful for it.

"Lansiah," Carson began, wondering where to begin. He wanted nothing more than to pout like a little bairn and give a childish, "I don't want ta go!" but he knew he couldn't for more reasons than one. He closed his mouth and studied the beautiful woman before him, unable to find the words to express what he was thinking.

"Is this about your return to Atlantis?" she asked bringing forth the subject that was not only forthcoming on her mind but what she suspected was also on his. Her hands drew together and her fingers intertwined with one another in attempt to hide her nerves from her lover. Carson gave her a relieved nod, not knowing what else needed to be said and more than happy to let her have the reigns in the conversation. "You do not wish to leave."

"No, I don't," Carson answered, stretching out his right arm and wrapping his injured hand around hers with a minute wince. A bruised hand certainly wasn't the worst of his injuries but that didn't make it hurt any less to flex the joint or give strength to the weakened muscles.

"But there is no reason for you to stay," Lansiah argued, wrapping her spare hand over his. He winced again when the weight of her hand came to rest on the deep bruising on his and she quickly moved away, trailing her fingers along his knuckles and down his thumb before resting the limb underneath her covered hand. "You need to go so that you may heal properly. We have nothing here that can help you in such a way."

Carson didn't respond. He found it difficult to express just how desperately he needed her and how deeply he loved her. He felt foolish for thinking such things and refused to sound like a mewling child while he said anything. Instead he chose to let his eyes say everything for him, knowing the message had been received when tears welled in her eyes and her mouth hung open.

She moved from her chair, coming to sit on the bed by his right hip, still holding his hand in hers. Her right hand came up and began stroking his cheek, gently wiping away whatever stray tears that fell from his eyes. "Do not think you are going alone," she cooed, her words more a comfort than the warning they sounded. "I will be with you wherever you go."

Despite the elated jig his heart was doing, Carson couldn't allow her to make that kind of decision. Not without a fight. "I couldnae ask ya ta leave yer home."

Lansiah smiled at how thick his home-world accent had become. The only times his accent ever got _that _thick were when he was furious, so happy he couldn't control what came out of his mouth, or when he was-what was the word Mary used?-loopy. She knew that while he was a little loopy, he was not loopy enough for the thick accent to come and he definitely wasn't mad so she knew that the reason it had grown harder to understand him was because he was happy – he just didn't want to express it.

"You did not ask it of me," she reminded gently after allowing herself a smile and a chuckle. She leaned in and gave him a tender kiss, allowing her lips to linger on his longer than necessary before she withdrew. Amazed crystal eyes stared openly into her own steel gray and she remembered that _she _was the only one who knew that she had planned on returning to Atlantis when he went. She had meant to say something but the subject hadn't come up. Now she realized that Carson had expected her to stay behind and he didn't want to leave her.

"Did you think I would allow you to return to Atlantis without me?" Lansiah asked, more than a little surprised when she received an embarrassed blush as a response. She shook her head in exasperation, doing her best to cover the hurt that lay directly beneath it. "I may not understand everything that is to happen but I do know this – you are everything to me. I could not remain here while you undergo this new trial. I need to be with you, to help you while you heal and to support you when you need it."

She waited a few rapid heartbeats, allowing her words and their meaning and underlying desperation to sink in before she continued. Placing both of her hands on his face, she forced him to look at her as she forced every loving feeling she felt to the surface of her melted aluminum eyes, hoping to encompass him in a silky blanket of encouragement. "I love you Carson. I am not going to let anything stop me from being by your side."

At her latest declaration, Carson felt his defenses crumble filling his heart with such joy he felt he didn't deserved it. Knowing there weren't enough words in any language in two galaxies to express what he felt, the Scot gave in and swiftly grabbed Lansiah and pulled her to him and pressing their lips and bodies close together. He froze in the kiss for a moment, waiting for the pain that raced through his body to calm to a more tolerable level before he put all his passion into his touch.

They pulled apart, each person desperate for oxygen and panting as their lungs tried to draw air in, and stared at one another. Carson reached up and cupped her face with his hands, gently pulling her towards him so their noses touched.

"I love you Lansiah," he practically purred, his voice silky with love and desire. "Cara, I would love for you to come with me."

Lansiah smiled at his sentence. Instead of calling her "love" as he was accustomed to calling everyone, he had begun to change the word out for "Cara", his pet name for her. It meant so much to her for him to call her that and she wondered if he knew that – and thus the reason for the name – or if it was simply by accident. She crawled over him, moving from his right side to his left and therefore the open side of the bed all the while careful of his injuries and melted into his left side. Her leg curled around his and her arm snaked around his stomach, taking care of any bruising he should have, and her hand wrapped tightly over his side.

His steady heartbeat rang through her ear as her head lay heavily upon his chest drawing a smile from somewhere in the emotional darkness. Her eyelids began to droop as his breathing started to even out and she knew he was asleep. Gentle snores came from his open mouth making her chuckle appreciatively. She didn't know how much true, restful sleep he had gotten since the accident – though she knew he had dozed off and on – but she knew that he was finally getting some now.

She snuggled further into him, rubbing against him like the proverbial cat that she was and allowed herself to relax for the first time in hours, possibly days. Her breathing evened out and she fell asleep before she had a chance to further enjoy the feel of him next to her or to wish him a good night.

* * *

><p>Mary entered the room the next morning. The suns had barely risen but Colonel Sheppard had already been up for hours, checking on the weather and keeping tabs on all under two roofs. When the snow had ceased falling, he had almost jumped with joy and had immediately run upstairs to announce the new weather development and had all but demanded that she and Teyla prepare for the return to Atlantis immediately. If it hadn't been for her desire to get Carson back to the city as soon as possible, Mary would have heatedly argued with him bossing her around but as it was she let it slide and went next door.<p>

The door opened silently and she came in to find Carson and Lansiah curled up with one another. She smiled and crossed her arms at the sight, not wanting to disturb the couple as of yet. She quietly backed out of the room to begin readying everything and everyone else for departure, deciding that her patient and his girlfriend could wait.

Colonel Sheppard wouldn't be happy and would more than likely try to strong-arm her into waking them both but snow would fall in hell before she allowed him to succeed. Carson needed the sleep and he deserved more than a little bit of happiness. She may not be his close friend but she cared about him enough to grant him that, no matter who stood in her way.


	16. Accepted

**AN: At the beginning of this story I put a note in the spoilers that this would be set during season 6; this is still true but there will be a few changes to the overall story line, making the entire seasons 4 and 5 completely AU (in this fic). **

**This story will be a three-part series and therefore will cover more. Things will be changed from the original SGA but hopefully the changes will work and will make you, the readers, just as happy. I'll admit that there will be some changes some of you will not like and I apologize for that but I believe it makes things work out better in the end. **

**The main changes are these: **

Elizabeth is alive. No one has ever replaced her as leader. (I'm aware I stated this in the beginning but I thought I should mention it again just in case).

Teyla did not get pregnant by Kanaan, therefore allowing her relationship with John (for those of you that aren't Teyla/John shippers, I apologize but I am) to bloom and grow to what they have now.

At the end of season 5, they were allowed to return Atlantis back to the Pegasus Galaxy.

**As I have said. These changes have essentially made a very AU SGA and therefore things happened a lot differently than were shown by the show. I, once again, apologize if there is any confusion or dislike with these changes but I do believe they are important for this particular story. **

**Thank you so much for your patience with me in writing Braving the Storm. **

**M**

* * *

><p><strong>Part XVI - Accepted <strong>

Lansiah woke to the sounds of water lapping against metal, briefly wondering where she was before her mind reminded her. She gently stretched to awaken stiff muscles before she fluidly got out of bed and wandered over to the window, watching the slowly rising sun shin brightly down upon the blue water and gleaming city of Atlantis….

_She and Carson woke to find her room completely bare of anything Lantean with the exception of the metal pole, plastic tubing and bag filled with fluid. They stared about the room, their brains trying to work out what had happened. When Mary had come in with a broad smile, things finally connected. Carson was going home. _

_Lansiah got out of bed and dressed quickly, swiftly packing some clothes into a bag as she went. She could feel the desire to immediately return to Atlantis humming through the air, vibrating through her pores and into her heart, the muscle pumping with the rhythm as it went, and she knew that the Lanteans would not wait long for her to get things ready for her departure. _

_As Mary and Ronon began preparing Carson for travel, Lansiah went about her home, floating through the place like a ghost that never stood still. She checked all hearths, unsurprised to find all minus the one in her room, cleaned and prepped for her return, then she checked the windows making sure they were all secured but once again finding it was not necessary for her to have done so. It was obvious that Colonel Sheppard and his friends had been awake a very long time and had taken care of everything for her. _

_She smiled at the thought of just how well Carson's friends understood her while Carson himself had been so unassuming and hadn't even thought of her coming along with him as a possibility. It was nice to know that Colonel Sheppard and his team had her back even when Carson was seemingly clueless. It made her feel as though she'd been accepted into their strange but workable family and she made a mental note to make sure that she got to know them better during her time with them, hoping to incorporate them into _her _family in return. _

_Her last stop was the kitchen. She wanted to make sure that food that would expire in her absence was discarded or brought along and things were clean for her return. As she moved about the expansive room, she heard chattering coming from up the stairs – she frowned when she heard strain from pain in Carson's voice – followed by clunking and clattering that she assumed was the doctor and the Satedan moving Carson from the bed to the flat, stiff board they had brought with them. _

_An image of Carson crossing his arms over his chest and demanding to be moved some other way came into her mind and Lansiah found she could not help but laugh at the picture. She had heard about his strong refusal when he had been brought back and she thought now would not be much different. _

"_Care to share the joke?" Colonel Sheppard asked lightly from behind her. _

_Lansiah spun around in surprise and blushed in embarrassment. She was so used to being on her own that she often forgot that those in her home hung on every sound she uttered and every move she made. "I am sorry Colonel Sheppard. There is no joke. Just an image." _

_The Colonel's lips dipped down as the corners of his mouth lifted into a smile. Warmth spread into his normal military hazel eyes and for a brief moment, Lansiah understood why Teyla was so taken with the pilot. When he wasn't busy protecting his family and friends and a city that was more of a home than he'd ever had back on Earth, John Sheppard was a genial, attractive man full of boyish charm tempered by years of responsibility. _

"_I'll bet Beckett is up there right now arguing against using the stretcher," he supplied with a twinkle in his eyes, letting Lansiah know that he knew exactly what she was thinking. _

_Warm laughter filled the kitchen as they both chuckled at the new image his words produced and soon Teyla and Rodney came in to see what was going on. _

"_How can you possibly be laughing? It's not even eight am!" Rodney chided sourly, holding a mug of coffee that Lansiah knew she didn't have. His blue eyes traveled from her and the Colonel to the food she had spread about the work table and counter behind her and Lansiah thought she could hear his stomach growling loudly at the sight. _

"_Would you like something to eat Doctor McKay?" she asked politely though she – and everyone in the room – already knew the answer. Without waiting for a reply she went about throwing together a small meal for the physicist. Knowing that he didn't care what he ate as long as it was food, Lansiah didn't pay any particular attention to what she put together, matching meats, potatoes and stew with bread, butter and jam. _

_She made a plate for everyone in the house knowing they had been hard at work all morning while she and Carson had slept and smiled when they each swarmed to the food like starving animals. Teyla and the Colonel of course were gracious in eating but Doctor McKay disappeared the food without any form of manners. She didn't mind, understanding the appetite hard work could produce, but it made her smile none the less. _

_Heavy, booted footsteps on the stairs, drew Lansiah's attention from the three Lanteans in her kitchen to the three on the stairs. _

_As expected Carson lay upon the flat – what was it that Colonel Sheppard had called it? – stretcher with his arms crossed over his chest and annoyance in his eyes. His right leg was highly elevated to alleviate some pain from swelling and make the limb more comfortable during travel but she could barely see the leg for the blanket that lay tightly over him. His right hand was wrapped in a bandage and his head supported by a thin pillow. Straps crossed his body like a snake coiling itself possessively around her friend, stopping him from moving in any way possible. _

_Ronon carried one end while Mary carried the other, the muscles in their arms standing out despite the clothing they wore. It was apparent they were trying to be careful though they seemed almost desperate to set Carson down but Lansiah could tell that each step caused her lover pain and it hurt to see it. _

_The pair gently laid the stretcher upon the floor, straightening with barely visible winces before they made their way over to where the others were just finishing their meal. _

_Lansiah went about preparing more, knowing Ronon's and Rodney's appetites were big enough to equal feeding half the village. She was grateful for this fact however as it gave her a chance to make sure no food went to waste while she gone. She gladly refilled the plates and handed one heaping plate to Ronon and one medium plate to Mary. Her stomach growled as well but she couldn't bring herself to eat – her worry for Carson during and after the trip outweighing her body's needs. _

_However when a plate filled with a little bit of food was pushed towards her direction, the Hoan gave a smile at the person who had done the nudging. She should have known that Mary would not have allowed her to go without eating though she had no desire to do so. The Lantean, while being a doctor, also understood how she was feeling and knew she would need the strength for the coming day. As she took a bite, her gaze floated over to Carson._

"_Don't worry, he's not hungry," Mary answered her unspoken thoughts. She gave the plate a little bit more of a nudge and continued. "And even if he was, he's not allowed to eat before surgery. He might have a reaction to the anesthesia." _

"_What? He's going to have the surgery today? Shouldn't you guys wait a day or two before you cut him open again?" Rodney inquired curiously, his words biting through Lansiah's heart. _

"_Rodney!" John grumbled in exasperation. _

"_What? It's a fair question," Rodney replied defensively. _

"_Yes but I'm sure you could have put it a little more delicately Doctor McKay," Mary answered for the Colonel knowing what he was getting at. "And in response to your question, I'm sure we could wait however I would like to begin repairing the damage as soon as possible rather than waiting." _

"_I thought he would have to have a knee replacement surgery?" Teyla's calm voice asked. She slowly repeated the last three words as though she weren't sure that's what the procedure was called and Lansiah was grateful that it wasn't just her that was a little behind when it came to Lantean medicine._

"_He is but the procedure takes a long time meaning we, as a staff, would like to begin as soon as possible. It's probable the actual procedure won't actually take place until tomorrow but we will begin prepping him as soon as we return." _

_Silence descended upon the group as they finished their food and processed the information they were given. Lansiah proceeded to clean up the dishes and the work spaces, putting each item away in its own place as she went and thought while Colonel Sheppard and Teyla proceeded to check a few things on their flying machine and Ronon and Mary prepared to move Carson into the machine. The only one who didn't feel the need to work was Doctor McKay who was sitting in front of the hearth, beeping away on his data pad. _

"_Okay! Everyone ready?" Colonel Sheppard's cheery voice rang out, startling Lansiah who had been lost in her own, blank world. _

"_I believe so," Lansiah answered, wiping her partially dry hands on her skirts. She walked out of the kitchen, giving each nook and cranny of her home one last final look before she exited through the front door, locking it firmly behind her._

* * *

><p><em>The trip to the gate was uneventful, a fact that the entire party was thankful for. Colonel Sheppard, Doctor McKay, Teyla and Ronon sat in the forward section of the machine they called the Jumper while Mary and Lansiah sat on the hard flooring of the rear section with Carson. The ride itself was smooth due to Colonel Sheppard's exceptional flying and the weather cooperating with them and soon they arrived in the bright city herself. <em>

_As soon as they landed they were surrounded by the medical staff who was more worried about their boss than they were the lack of space in the small ship. Strong hands wrapped around her arms, gently guiding Lansiah out of the Jumper and essentially out of the way. She looked up to find Colonel Sheppard looking down on her with understanding but still leading her away from the Jumper bay and away from Carson. _

_She planted her feet right where they were, not wanting to be too far from her friend and not trusting the military leader to take her to him. "I am staying with Carson," she announced when he gave her a questioning look. Even as she spoke, Carson was rolled past her on a bed and her eyes followed his path. _

"_I believe that is where Colonel Sheppard was taking you," Teyla answered instead of the Colonel. "To the infirmary to wait for Carson." _

_Red deep as a rose colored Lansiah's cheeks but she didn't respond. She waited for the small group that was slowly becoming her family to begin leading the way to the place where Carson was, doing her best not to pass them entirely in her haste. _

_When they arrived in the infirmary their quick pace was halted by Mary who blocked their path with her body and a hand up in the "wait" position. _

"_They are getting him settled and checked over," she informed them. "Go. Go get some food. Go debrief Elizabeth. Go get some rest. I don't care what you do as long as you do _not _do it here. It will be a good couple of hours before we will even begin to think about letting any one of you see him." _

I will bloody well not be leavin', _Lansiah objected angrily in her mind, echoing Carson's tone of speech and attitude when he was annoyed. She crossed her arms over her chest and marched over to a collection of empty chairs, sitting stubbornly and defiantly down while daring anyone to try to move her. With a minute shrug of his shoulders, Ronon soon joined her, leaning against the wall beside her as though this were the most natural thing in the world. She saw Doctor McKay cast a glance in the general area that Carson had been taken to then shrug and walk out. Apparently he had more trust in Carson's staff than she did because she wasn't leaving until he was done with the surgery. A look was shared between Colonel Sheppard and Teyla then the couple split with the Colonel following Rodney while Teyla joined her and Ronon. _

_Mary let out a sigh. "I should have known you wouldn't listen. Fine. Stay there but I'm warning you, you _will _be waiting for awhile." With that exasperated statement the doctor walked away to the curtained off area where nurses could be seen scurrying around Carson doing things from simply getting him changed to checking his vitals and making sure he's semi-comfortable. _

_As the day drew on Lansiah discovered that Mary hadn't been kidding when she said the wait would be long. _

_True to her word, a couple hours after Mary had left, she returned to allow them a brief visit with Carson before he was taken into surgery. He had been happy to see them all but she was happy to see a brighter sparkle in his eyes when he looked at her. It made her cheeks blush when she saw that everyone else noticed the same as well but she stubbornly refused to show her embarrassment. She had wanted nothing more than to crawl in bed with him and cuddle but he had so many wires and tubes attached to him that she feared hurting him or disconnecting something important. The visit was appreciated but shortened when Mary came in to shoo them back out to the waiting area. _

_Now they all sat, including Colonel Sheppard and Doctor McKay, impatiently waiting for him to be brought out again. The click-clack of Doctor McKay typing on his computer echoed hollowly through the infirmary but Lansiah was glad for it because it gave her something to focus on other than her worry for her lover. She knew that his life was not in danger but she couldn't shake the feeling that something would go wrong while they were working on his knee. Her hands had begun to fidget in her lap but she soon found she couldn't contain the anxiety solely into her hands and began to pace the waiting room. She saw the other team members look in her direction but none said anything about her swift movement. They all knew how she felt but as they'd been to this point many times before they'd discovered a small modicum of patience. _

_At last her legs grew tired and her muscles shook with exhaustion. She didn't know how long she had paced but she guessed it been awhile. Just as she collapsed into the spare waiting chair, Mary came out of the operating area, her pale green scrubs splattered with crimson which was slowly turning rust brown as it dried. Lansiah paled as she realized that it was Carson's blood on the clothing and she felt herself sway as she stood. _

_Mary, who noticed the Hoan's reaction, came up to her, putting a comforting hand on her arm. "Don't worry he's fine," she assured. _

"_You couldn't have, oh I don't know, _changed _before you came out and told us that?" Doctor McKay snapped. Whether it was because he too was nauseated at the sight of Carson's blood or it was because he was being – what was the word? Protective? – of her she didn't know but she couldn't have agreed more with his sentiment. _

"_I thought you wanted to know how he was doing ASAP Rodney. However the next time one of you is finished with surgery I will acquiesce to your request and change before I inform you all of how it went." Mary's blue eyes shone with a mixture of anger and amusement as she relayed her barely concealed threat but the amusement grew as Doctor McKay began to sputter indignantly. "That's what I thought. Now would you like to know how it went and how he's doing?" _

"_Please," Lansiah answered before Doctor McKay could snap at the woman again. The sight of her scrubs still made her nauseous but she soon began to realize how little blood there actually was and she felt her systems return to normal again. _

"_Very well," Mary granted, taking a seat with the rest of them. "Everything went well. We were able to go in and repair the damage done through minimally invasive surgery. We make a smaller incision which means less recovery time because we have less tissue to go through leaving less scarring. He'll be pretty out of it for a day or so but after that we'll be able to get him slowly mobile as his pain threshold will allow. For now, you lot need to go get some food and get some rest. It'll probably be a few hours before the anesthesia wears off and even then the only person I'm allowing to see him is Lansiah." _

_Relief swept through Lansiah at those words like a swift river brushing against the rocks of its bed, sweeping the sediment along with it. She was grateful that Mary would not be kicking her out as well as the others but she was more grateful that she would be the first allowed to visit Carson when he first woke._

_The Lanteans left, albeit unwillingly, giving Lansiah and the operating room one final concerned glance before the walked out to go do as Doctor Mary instructed. _

_Mary placed a hand on her forearm. "You won't be able to stay too long. He'll be incredibly groggy—um, incoherent—when he wakes and he'll need more rest," she warned gently as she led Lansiah to where nurses were getting Carson settled. _

_Lansiah sat down, staring anxiously at the man in the bed, her heart cringing at how pale and fragile he looked. She sat down on his left side, grabbing his limp hand into hers, being careful of the IV line that snaked out of the vein as she enveloped it. Quietly she hummed as he slept, needing to cover the sounds of the heart monitor which beeped both comfortingly and annoying all at once. _

_Time passed without incident or recognition and still she hummed. It was soothing to her and she hoped it would be to him as well. His hand within hers jerked as he slowly woke, normal crystal blue eyes dulled by medication and pain looking around for something recognizable. When they landed on her, they brightened considerably but she could tell it was a struggle for him to look so aware. _

_He opened his mouth to speak but nothing but a croak came out and he winced at the soreness of his throat. She reached for the glass of ice chips that the nurse had recently brought and slipped a couple of them in between his lips, gliding her thumb along the cracked skin before she retracted her hand and waited. _

"'_Allo love," he greeted hoarsely, smiling as wide as he could. His brows drew together and his forehead wrinkled. For a moment Lansiah thought he was in pain and was more than ready to go get him some relief but his next comment made her recognize his reaction. "Have ye been here all this time?" _

"_Yes she has," Mary answered for her, coming to check on her patient and giving them both a glare but for different reasons. She looked at his heart monitor and wrote down the results then moved to check the incision site. He grimaced but it was brief much to Lansiah's relief. "She wouldn't leave until she knew you were okay." _

_Carson sighed and gave her hand a gentle squeeze. "I'm fine Cara. Go get some rest" His eyes drooped then snapped open. "I think I may do the same." Even in his drugged state he could see her hesitation. "Go," he commanded gently, using his hand to try to pull her away from his bed. He fell asleep not seconds after his attempt, the drugs in his system taking over for his stubborn nature. _

"_He's right you know," Mary said from where she stood at the foot of his bed. "He's fine. We're monitoring him closely and I'll let you know when he wakes again but for right now you should go get some rest. It's a little after midnight. If you go to sleep now, you have a chance at getting some good rest before he should wake in the morning." _

_Lansiah looked down at the sleeping form of Carson, relieved to see him resting peacefully. Her own exhaustion began to claw at her like a hungry beast demanding to be fed and she found she couldn't ignore it any longer. Reluctantly she nodded her head, then slowly extracted herself from Carson's grip and walked to the door where Colonel Sheppard was patiently waiting to show her to her quarters._

* * *

><p>The morning sun streaked through the window, higher in the sky now than it was before her memories had drifted off to another time and place. She blinked in an effort to keep the light from blinding her and turned away quickly, dressing for the new day that had been provided. A chime sounded through the room alerting her to someone at the door. She threw an over dress on, tying it down the front of her torso as she walked to the door.<p>

Colonel Sheppard stood in the hall. His mouth briefly hung agape as he looked at her but he recovered quickly, offering her a smile that spoke more of just his happiness at the news he brought with him. "Carson's awake."

Without further thought to anything, Lansiah strode out of her room and headed straight for the infirmary, more than ready to see Carson again.


	17. Beginnings

**Author's Note: I just wanted to take the time to thank ladygris for her help throughout this story. She's done almost as much writing of it as I have. Thank you hon!**

* * *

><p><strong>Part XVII - Beginnings<strong>

The first week after Carson's surgery passed in a daze of hours spent at his bedside broken up by meals filled with laughter and stories of Colonel Sheppard's team's adventures. They had fully adopted Lansiah into their little circle and usually one or the other of them showed up to make sure she ate when she should and got some proper rest. Carson was grateful that they'd taken such good care of her, and he smiled every time he woke to find her sitting at his bedside.

During her time in the infirmary, Lansiah also spent time with Marie learning everything she could about healing while it was available. The seasoned nurse was patient and kind with the Hoan, slowly teaching her about their healing methods and the medicines which they use to help the processes along. For the most part Lansiah caught on quickly. Within the next week she was able to act as a sort of aide for the nursing staff if they felt it necessary.

Carson sat on his bed watching her float around the infirmary as though she belonged, a grin spreading across his face wide enough to match an ocean. He loved seeing the confident side of Lansiah and seeing her grow in a place that was normally referred to as _his_element was a nice change. It warmed his heart to see his staff not only be courteous to the woman but also accept her as one of their own, introducing her to every patient that came in and allowing her the freedom to move about the city as though she were a native to Atlantis.

Despite all of this however, the Scot was beginning to itch to get out of bed and move about more than they had been allowing him to. With each passing day the staff allowed him out of bed longer and longer, watching like overprotective mothers as he hobbled around the infirmary on his crutches, putting weight on his leg as he felt able. If he was truthful with himself, Carson was actually afraid of bearing weight on his right leg but as a doctor he knew that he would have to try sooner or later. The knee joint, while needing time to heal, also needed to be exercised gently via stretches and very limited weight bearing. He decided that if he ever wanted to get out of the infirmary any time soon, he needed to suck it up and at least try today.

As if they sensed his readiness, his two escorts for his daily exercise arrived through the infirmary doors with smiles in their eyes.

"Hey Doc. How are ya feelin'?" Colonel Sheppard asked happily as his eyes roamed around the infirmary, looking for the person who was normally a staple at his bedside. Carson saw his smile broaden when the pilot saw Lansiah assisting Marie with the application of stitches just above a Marine's brow. He took a deep breath the focused back on Carson. "You ready for your walk?"

"M'walk? Colonel I'm not a dog," Carson reminded without any hint of malice. While the pilot grabbed the pair of crutches that were propped against the wall behind his bed, the physician began the slow task of lowering his legs over the side of the bed. A few days ago this would have been a very painful, uncoordinated affair but Carson had learned a trick to doing it that helped immensely – ask for a dose of pain medication before he started.

"I never thought you were Doc," John defended with a smile that said otherwise. The accompanying gleam in Ronon's eyes suggested that he too had thought of that at first as well. He supposed it couldn't be helped; there were times when Rodney compared him to a puppy.

Carson chose to ignore the humorous gleam in his friends' eyes and simply accept the pair of crutches that would be his new best friends for the next six weeks, offering a smile of his own as he took them. He gently leveraged himself off the bed, leaning heavily on the medical instruments until he got his balance then slowly began the trek to the nearest chair. It wasn't too far away, no more than thirty feet, but to Carson it seemed to be light years. Though he had been getting stronger, he was still trying to recover from the trauma the fight had caused and the trip he'd taken afterward.

He made it to the chair, practically dancing a jig in celebration but had to sit down to regain his strength and prepare himself not only for the trip back but also to try bearing a little bit of weight on the leg.

"Carson?" a familiar and very wanted voice inquired from just above where he laid his head back. He opened his eyes to stare into two gray eyes full of concern and love making him smile. She wore a standard cream petticoat with a pale lilac dress covering it. Her hair was pulled back into a braid, carefully woven around and in between several ribbons lending the normally plain hairstyle a touch of fancifulness.

"Lansiah, how are you love?"

She smiled at him, leaned down and gave him a chaste enough kiss before she stepped around to the other chair that had somehow magically appeared across from him. John smirked and left the pair alone as Lansiah's eyes roamed critically over Carson as she sat down. She leaned forward to place a hand on his uninjured knee.

"I am well. Everyone has been so helpful, so embracing. I have learned so much," she boasted happily, her eyes alight with the fire of excitement. Even still he could see something underneath the elation, something he felt at least one day a week – homesickness.

He recognized that now wasn't the time to bring up that he'd seen the emotion however so he plastered on just as bright a smile as hers, biding his time until he was released into his quarters to bring it up.

"You ready to head back Doc?"

Carson lowered his head at the sound of Colonel Sheppard's voice, grudgingly tearing his gaze away from Lansiah's enchanting eyes which carefully revealed hidden secrets. His eye fell upon the bandaged leg that lay stretched out on the floor. As though the simple reminder of the injury were enough, he felt the deep throb that was emanating from the leg. He grimaced but nodded. "Aye, I think that may be best."

"I can help him Colonel Sheppard, if you wish to do something else," Lansiah offered, blushing deeply at the tone of dismissal in the sentence. She truly wasn't trying to be rude, she just assumed that the pilot had other things to attend to. She waited for Carson to get himself together and start making his way back to his bed then began following.

"Actually," John responded, drawing out the word in his usual drawl, "you can't. Doctor Weir wishes to see you."

"Oh? When?" Lansiah countered with an eyebrow raise that could have meant anything from a challenge to surprise.

"Five minutes ago," Ronon answered for his friend, smiling devilishly when he saw John avert his gaze and give a light blush.

"Five minutes. . .Colonel, are you trying to get me into trouble with Doctor Weir?" Lansiah inquired while she offered a coy smile full of teasing and amusement.

"No," John answered with a squeaky voice. Hazel eyes spun around the room, looking for some sort of distraction to get away from the unpleasant conversation. One came in the form of a pained hiss, turning all attention from him to Carson who stood in the middle of the infirmary, clinging to his crutches for dear life with white knuckles and tears forming in his tightly clenched eyes. "Doc. You alright?"

"Aye lad, I'm fine," Carson responded when he finally found his breath again. His voice, weak and strained from pain, belied his assurance earning him three disbelieving frowns. To get away from the sympathizing looks, Carson merely continued on his way to his bed, immensely grateful when he arrived.

"Should you be attempting to put weight on that leg already?" Ronon asked, not missing much when it came to his friends.

"Yes actually," Mary answered as she walked up to help Carson put his crutches back against the wall and get him back in bed. Three surprised figures jumped at the sound of her voice, each minus Lansiah giving her a glare for her sneaky behavior. The doctor merely shrugged it off and continued with her explanation. "Generally we like to encourage weight bearing as soon as possible. However if the action is accompanied with pain, we recommend stopping and waiting for a week before trying again. It is doubtful he'll be able to tolerate in sort of pressure then either but it's a good way to judge recovery time and processes."

Lansiah replaced the physician at Carson's side, fussing over the Scot with affection and care as she helped elevate his leg and fluffed the pillows behind his back. "Well. In that case, I believe I shall go meet with Doctor Weir."

Carson grabbed her hand, feeling the shake of nervousness in it as he enclosed his bigger hand over her smaller one. "Don't worry Cara. You'll be fine. Elizabeth may seem tough but she doesn't bite."

"Too hard," John amended having received more than one lectures filled with a severe tongue lashing from the leader of Atlantis.

Lansiah laughed warmly, feeling a small bit of the nerves drain out of her and leaned down to give Carson a friendly kiss on the forehead. "I'll be back for dinner."

"Why's that? He won't be here," Mary interrupted before the Hoan could promise more. Four heads turned her way in curious surprise, each inquiring for more information in their own way. She smiled appreciatively at all them. "Didn't I tell you? I'm releasing Carson to his quarters as soon as he feels ready to leave."

"Why didn't you tell me? I'm ready to leave now!" Carson immediately stated while trying to move, quite emphatically, off the bed.

"Uh-huh," Mary objected, gently pushing him back against the mattress. "I meant after you've rested from your walk. I know it tires you and there's no rush after all."

Lansiah frowned. "I do not know where your quarters are," she admitted to him, "but I will join you for dinner tonight."

"It's easy to find them," John answered with a smile wider than the Cheshire cat's.

"Oh really Colonel? And how do you figure that?" Carson countered with a sneaky suspicion the pilot had been up to something.

John gave a nonchalant shrug. "Because hers are right next to yours. There's a door in your room that connects to hers."

"I do not remember it," Lansiah stated knowing she should be leaving but not wishing to be confused.

"For all intents and purposes it hasn't been created yet but Atlantis has personally okayed the creation of one. The engineers have just finished installing the second door a few minutes ago. Now all we need is for Rodney and Zelenka to install the crystals."

"Cheeky little bugger," Carson replied completely unable to hide the grin on his face.

"Be that as it may," Lansiah said, giving Carson a reprimanding look before she turned her attention to all of her friends. "I am glad that it has been done. And now I am well and truly late for my meeting with Doctor Weir. If you will excuse me?" She didn't wait for a response as she scurried out the door, not aware of three appreciative gazes as her backside.

* * *

><p>Lansiah walked hastily back to her quarters. Her meeting with Doctor Weir had gone pleasantly while being filled with surprising information. Her heart still continued to race from the news she'd received but she currently attributed it more to her anticipation of dinner with Carson, for which she was late, than anything else. The doors to her room came into view, and she smiled as her eyes tracked to the door to the right of hers, unable to stop joy from spreading to her heart at the thought of the man inside.<p>

Giving nary a pause to the newly added door in her room, Lansiah moved to the washroom where she quickly discarded her clothing and bathed in the shower. Steam filled the room by the time she'd finished, the heat of it sticking to her skin and flattening her hair against her face. She knew that dinner tonight wasn't necessarily a special occasion but she still wished to dress fancily for it. There were things that she and Carson needed to discuss and she even wished to celebrate his release from the infirmary.

A chime unlike any she'd ever heard sounded through her room making her jump in surprise. When it sounded again, the tone was much quieter. She sent a silent thank you the city for lowering it and requested that she open the door for her so she could finish fixing her hair. It wasn't a fancy do but her hair felt like being difficult tonight and was refusing to cooperate.

"Lansiah?" Carson's voice called out hesitantly in the openness of her quarters. There was scuffling and the sound of fabric rubbing against each other to suggest that he was moving but she didn't know where to; she assumed it was to the table that was currently set out in the middle of her quarters. "What's all this then?"

Lansiah came out of the washroom, her curling hair traveling lightly down her back and framing her face as it glowed an auburn in the soft candlelight that brightened the room. In her hair, holding the majority of strands back was a band woven of soft fabric, braided around a piece of plastic. It was thin in appearance but did its job very well. Her frock swished against her deep green petticoat which matched the outer dress in color. On her feet she wore what the Lanteans named to be "ballet flats". They were quite comfortable indeed but they would not last long on Hoa unless they were kept merely as home shoes.

"I thought we should celebrate your release from the infirmary," she answered at length. She winced when he startled and almost lost his balance in the process but he recovered quickly and turned to look at her.

His mouth instantly dropped open as though it were on hinges rather than bone and for a moment he simply stood, staring at her. Crystal blue eyes traveled from her hair, tracing every single strand of brown like they were pencil-thin markings rather than follicles of hair. They then moved to her face and she saw the longing to caress her cheek shine brightly in them. When they enveloped her gown, she felt herself blush thrice as deeply as the rouge the colored his cheeks.

The frock was simple at its best but even she knew of the elegance and finery it radiated. It's trimmings were forest green with a deeper green lace laid on top providing a prettily intricate pattern that one could not make out unless they were to sit and study it for hours at a time. In one light they could be simple weaves and curls but in a complete other it could almost be runes or a language of its own. The gown snugly fit her torso and arms accenting her figure quite magnificently as the skirt fanned out, flowing freely behind her as she walked. The arm sleeves were long with a ribbon of string seemingly binding the fabric together on the underside. The trimming around her hands was loose, allowing free movement of her wrists, hands and fingers to do as they please. At the low-curving neck was the same trimming as the rest but it was a looser fit than the rest, allowing for a slight drop in fabric should she bend over. A necklace made of silver with a three flat disks and a green jewel sitting center completed the outfit.

She suspected that it was the placement of the jewel that drew his gaze the most and his accompanying thoughts were the cause for the blush but she wasn't confident enough in her musings to bring either to light. Instead she smiled politely and quietly cleared her throat. "I am surprised you are not sitting," she pointed out, using her right arm to sweep towards the table.

"Aye, well, I wanted to wait for you," Carson responded after a time, barely avoiding stuttering his reply as he continued to openly stare.

"That was not necessary. After all, you are injured and I must get the food." Lansiah folded her hands in front of her, portraying a person waiting for the other to take the lead while appearing shy but she was doing neither. She noticed his blush deepen as she pointed out the obvious and wished to soothe his nervousness by her simple gesture of ease. When he still didn't move, she gave a gentle, loving shake of her head and simply turned away to grab the plates of food which Teyla had brought to her only moments before Carson arrived.

Since she wasn't familiar with the cuisine of Earth, Lansiah had asked the Athosian to help her out and Teyla had been all too willing to oblige. Over the past few days, Lansiah had spent almost as much time with the Athosian as she had in the infirmary with Carson. She had gotten to know the other woman quite well and wasn't wholly unsurprised to discover that the two of them got along quite well. Having been an only child, Lansiah had never had any siblings but during her time with Teyla, she had begun to feel a bond that was almost sisterly form between them. It was oddly comforting to know that she had a friend such as that, whom she could feel comfortable with to go to about any situation. She had never felt that before and she wasn't thoroughly enjoying it.

Lansiah came back to the table to find that Carson had finally sat himself at it. When she had put the setup together, she had kept Carson's injuries in mind and so kept the table against a wall, allowing him to place his crutches against it just behind his chair. Unaware that she had returned, the Hoan took a moment to observe her friend. She was more than well aware that he was putting on a front for his friends when they were around and though she didn't expect him to do that with her, she often found it easier to observe the truth about a situation or a person if they do not know she was there.

Carson sat at the table with his right leg stretched out underneath it. His left was bent at the knee, the calf sitting under his chair. He wore a pair of deep blue jeans loose enough to fit over the supple bandaging on his injured leg. His torso was dressed in a midnight blue dress shirt with white buttons down the front. Thin stripes could be seen on the shirt if one looked close enough but she supposed that no one save her would take the time to stare that hard. On his feet he wore soft leather boots that ended just below his ankles, the rim of the shoe cupping his ankle in an almost loving curve. Between the shoes and his bare feet he wore dark blue socks which peeked out just beneath the end of his jeans. His left hand held onto his right, gently massaging the injured hand as he stared off at nothing in particular.

Taking the far away look as her cue to return, Lansiah cleared her throat before she happily announced, "Here we are! I am afraid that I had to ask Teyla to get it for us but she assured me it is good."

She jumped when Carson laughed upon seeing the meal and continued to stare at him curiously until his chuckles dissipated. Rouge colored his cheeks – whether from laughing or embarrassment she could only guess – giving him a rather attractive heated look.

"I'm sorry love," he said with a smile still in his voice. "It seems as though our friends wanted to give you a small taste of Scotland. This meal is called Shepherd's Pie. It's actually quite tasty once you move past the name."

Lansiah's brows wrinkled in confusion as she took her place at the table, her eyes examining the dish before her while she sat. "Why would they wish to do this?"

If possible the heat in Carson's face deepened to an almost reddish purple but he didn't respond. Instead he chose to begin eating – an act that she thought odd considering his dislike to eat before the women at the table but she let it go knowing that he wasn't ready to answer her question though curiosity burned hotly within her.

Silence descended upon them, lightened only by the sounds of their eating. Normally the lack of sound wouldn't bother her but tonight she desperately wanted something on in the background so when the conversation died, Lansiah got up and went over to the small radio that Colonel Sheppard had loaned her, turning it on before she sat back down and began eating.

The flavors of the dish were simple but tasty causing her to close her eyes to savor them while she chewed. She allowed the music of the song to fill her and before she could stop herself she was swaying along with it.

_When marimba rhythms start to play  
>Dance with me, make me sway<br>Like a lazy ocean hugs the shore  
>Hold me close, sway me more<em>

_Like a flower bending in the breeze_  
><em>Bend with me, sway with ease<em>  
><em>When we dance you have a way with me<em>  
><em>Stay with me, sway with me<em>

"What was your meeting with Elizabeth about?" Carson casually asked bringing her from her trance. Sharp gray eyes focused on his brilliant blue and she realized that while his tone was casual there was true curiosity and sadness barely hidden behind the smile he gave. She understood the intrigue but she failed to comprehend the sadness.

"Elder Karloff has called in to request someone's presence for Rosha's sentencing," she answered unflinchingly. There really wasn't a way to tiptoe around the subject so she didn't even try. Besides, she didn't think the news would bother him at all. She knew that the attack from Rosha still bothered him but she also knew that he understood this would happen sooner or later.

His reaction was much calmer than she would have guessed it would be – a fact for which she was very grateful – but it was still obvious to her that he wasn't happy with the announcement. Still, his voice was quiet, measured, and almost genial as he asked, "And whom does Elizabeth think should be the one to go?"

"Me," she answered honestly though she knew he already guessed that. Instantly she wished she had waited until his mouth was empty as he immediately began coughing, choking on the bite he'd just taken.

"You?" he wheezed before he took a long drink of water.

"Yes. Doctor Weir believes that I would be the best person to represent both Atlantis and you in the matter." She held his gaze as she finished her sentence, silently begging for his support in the decision. She knew he trusted her in more things than just healing but she also knew that he would not wish her to be anywhere near Rosha for fear of what the madman might try to do. As expected, she saw concern, barely masking the fear beneath it, flutter across his eyes while he simply stared at her. His face was schooled into a mask of something she could not read and she suspected he'd adopted such an expression during his years of practicing medicine for that exact purpose.

Carson sighed heavily, the sound weighing down her heart with every extra breath. He placed his fork upon his plate and reached across the table to grab hers. "I'm not happy with the idea of you goin' but I couldn't agree with Elizabeth more. You are the perfect person to represent our two worlds and I have every faith that you'll do it well." He paused to draw in a rather shaky breath then continued. "I assume Elizabeth will not be lettin' you go alone?"

Lansiah couldn't help but smile at the subtle hint that he was concerned for her safety. It was an odd feeling – having someone worry about her – but she loved feeling it and wouldn't have it any other way.

"Aye," she answered, blushing slightly at her adoption of his speech. "She will send Colonel Sheppard and Ronon with me." An almost sinister smile crossed her face as she thought about Doctor Weir's reasoning for the two escorts and decided to share it with Carson. "She said that, given what Colonel Sheppard has told her about his and Ronon's meeting with Rosha, he will not likely attempt to come near either one of them should he escape."

Carson tried to hide his laugh behind his napkin but she saw it wrinkle the corner of his eyes and brighten the blue orbs. She was glad that she had been able to bring him this form of relief despite the way things could have been and no doubt he remembered his suggestion of giving Rosha to the two military men while at her home. Despite knowing that he wasn't, Lansiah wished time and time again that he had been serious in his suggestion. Rosha would earn a greater punishment from Colonel Sheppard and Ronon than he would by her own people and the thought made her stomach uneasy.

Her unease must have shown on her face for Carson's soft voice asking her if she was alright drew her from her thoughts. She gave him a smile that didn't reach her eyes and began clearing away the dishes, intending to take them back to the "mess hall" afterward.

When she returned it was to find Carson standing a bit away from the table supported by his crutches with a blush of embarrassment in his cheeks and disappointment in his eyes. The music of one Michael Buble still crooned through the room, giving it a rather romantic appeal that it usually lacked. "Normally I would ask you do dance with me but that would not be the best idea right now and I'm sorry to admit it but I'm quite tired."

"Of course," Lansiah granted with a true smile of understanding. She wanted nothing more than to go to him and help him into bed but she didn't think her overprotective gesture would be appreciated so she remained where she was. However she couldn't stop herself from asking, "Do you need any help?"

"No thank you Cara. I think I'll just slip m'shoes off and sleep in this." He began crutching towards the door that connected their own but stopped by her to give her a deep kiss of goodnight. "G'night Lansiah. Come and get me before you leave tomorrow if I'm not already awake, aye?"

Lansiah stood on her tiptoes to give him another kiss whilst not knocking him off balance then pulled back when her lungs demanded oxygen. "I wouldn't have it any other way," she answered with a smile before she stepped aside and watched him enter his room. She wanted to go in there and physically undress him, putting him into more comfortable clothing but she also knew that he would be beyond mortified if she did so she remained where she was, watching him with sad eyes as he crutched over to his bed and laid down upon it. The connecting door closed before she could determine how he was doing and she guessed that it was by his own wish that the city chose then to shut her out.

She wished she had the gene that allowed her to communicate with the city like Carson did. She wished she could somehow ask Atlantis to take care of Carson and let her know if he needed anything. But she knew she couldn't. She felt the air in her room hum with a sort of comforting undertone in it and knew it was the city trying to assure her that all would be well but it somehow didn't feel like enough.

After returning the trays and plates to the mess hall, Lansiah went back to her room still with a heavy heart full of worry for her friend and lover in the next room. She gave one last sidelong glance at the door before she retreated to her bed. The comforting hum from earlier hadn't abated but now there was a hint of a Hoan lullaby somewhere in the vibrations. She fell asleep to the tune, allowing it to sooth her fears and calm her restless mind. Tomorrow would be full of stress, worry, and politics but tonight would just be her and her memories of happier times with a family she once had, and her dreams for the family she _hoped _to share with Carson one day soon.


	18. Adventures

**AN: **

** Name Pronunciations – Thanks Grace for the ideas! **

** Fralech**** – **fraleck

** Iena**** – **I-eena

** Tohhli**** – **Tow-li

** Chaafrah**** – **Cha-fra

** Dibleht**** – **dee-blet

* * *

><p><strong>Part XVIII – Adventures<strong>

The jumper flew through the gray sky with little difficulty. Though they were inside the machine, Lansiah, Ronon, and John knew the air was crisp and dry. Snow still covered what little of the planet they could see giving the illusion of a simple white blanket having been laid on top everything. No wind disturbed the dead trees as they gracefully wound in and out of the clouds.

Lansiah smiled as Colonel Sheppard piloted the jumper through the air with the enthusiasm of a wild animal that had been set free. She knew that he'd been going stir crazy on the city and being allowed to "escort" her to the proceedings gave him the freedom that he'd been desperate for far too long. A man like Colonel Sheppard didn't like being kept in one place as much as he had been forced to as of late. The jumper swerved to miss a cluster of crows bringing her briefly from her contemplations but it wasn't long before she was lost within her memories once again…

* * *

><p><em>Hundreds of candles lit the sentencing room, painting tendrils of light on the stone walls as shadows danced merrily in the cracks. The room itself was circular, large enough to fit Atlantis' Stargate flat on the floor with another stargate intertwined in the middle, its top grazing the roof. There was only one way out of the room and it was the door they were currently standing in. It was a great thing when you were doing the hosting but if you were the company – it was unnerving. <em>

_On the far side of the room sat a long table big enough to seat the five village elders. Each place was designated by its own chair, each one as different as those that would sit in them. The first that drew John's attention was the biggest chair, obviously belonging to Karloff which was plain in looks but it had a smooth regality to it that screamed "leader". On either side of the main chair were two others, all similar to Karloff's in simple structure but it was obvious to outsiders that there were genders associated with those that sit in them. _

_The five village Elders sat at the table, staring ominously across from them at the hated man who sat in a high-backed, wooden chair. Rope woven out of the thickest fibers was wrapped around his wrists and ankles, pinning him there like the prisoner he was. It gave Lansiah great satisfaction to see Rosha held in such a manner; given her current hatred of the man, it was far more humane than what she had in mind. _

"_Ah, Lansiah, it is good to see you again," Karloff greeted in his deep voice. Green eyes peering out of a plump face lined with wrinkles of time and thick, wiry hair scanned over her, trying to decide how the Atlanteans had been treating her. "You are well?" _

"_I am very well Elder Karloff," Lansiah responded politely, even a bit warmly. She liked Karloff; he was a lonely man but hid it behind his professionalism and duty. They often spoke when one wanted company. It could have been perceived as an odd arrangement but to them it was no different than a father speaking with his daughter. _

"_Now that we got that out of the way, can we please get on with the proceedings?" Fralech*****, the oldest member of the Elders intoned sounding bored and desperate to be done with the punishment. He was a plump man, like Karloff, but he had none of the senior Elder's warmth in his features. Rather than the round face and friendly eyes, Fralech had a long nose that ended at a sharp point just over his mouth; his eyes were almond shaped and yellow like a hawk's and just as sharp. _

"_Now, now Fralech. There is no need to be so rude," Iena chided gently, the smile on her thin face telling Lansiah that she, too, was glad to find the young woman safe and well. Her ebony eyes focused on the two men behind Lansiah and she raised her head and gave each one a minute nod. "Colonel Sheppard, Specialist Dex, it is good to see the both of you. I suppose you are here to speak on behalf of Atlantis?" _

"_If need be, yes," Colonel Sheppard answered succinctly, giving his most charming smile at the older woman. _

"_While Lansiah is here to speak on behalf of Doctor Beckett, there is no one here to actually speak for Atlantis as a world," Tohhli***** answered logically, sweeping a thin arm around him as though to show that no one else from Atlantis was there. "Generally we prefer to two representatives – the offended party and another from the world of the offended. Since Doctor Weir could not attend, I must assume she sent you in her place." _

_Lansiah briefly peered behind her to see surprise flash in the pilot's green eyes but it was gone as soon as it came and she turned her head around to face the council of Elders. _

"_Never the less, I must agree with Fralech though not for the same reason. I believe that Lansiah, Colonel Sheppard, and Specialist Dex would like to get back to their home sooner rather than later." Chaafra, the last remaining member of her family answered reasonably and with the care of a mother. Her own children had been killed long ago during a Wraith attack and no grandchildren had been made; her husband had died just last winter leaving the kindly woman alone in the world. Lansiah had identified with the older woman easily and often stopped by to check on her. _

"_Very well," Karloff announced with such finality in his tone as to silence the entire chamber. He waited until all eyes were on him before he continued in a much softer tone, "Let's begin." _

_Lansiah, Colonel Sheppard, and Ronon walked further into the circular room, coming to stand off to the side, between the Elders and Rosha with their backs to a wall and their eyes focused on the group of onlookers who had heard about the accident. Almost all of the people in the chamber wore scowls of hate aimed directly at Rosha but whether it was because they simply disliked the man or whether they were truly angry for what he had done to Carson, Lansiah did not know. _

_The trial was short in and of itself. Karloff read Rosha's side of the attack then he read Carson's. Both stories were told in even, dispassionate tones in an effort to sound neutral. There wouldn't be any votes from the other villagers over Rosha's guilt – just the other Elders – but he still wished to let his fellow members form their own opinions. When it came time to share his own experiences, however, he did not hold back. He allowed his anger at Rosha to come through and spoke only truths, including his opinion of the entire matter. _

_Votes were taken, each affirmative "aye" echoing loudly throughout the stone room. A fury of cheers erupted from the attending villagers when it became certain that Rosha had been convicted, each celebrating in his humility. Karloff allowed his people their happiness for a time before he held up his hand, instantly silencing the group. _

"_Now is the time for punishment," he announced solemnly, his deep voice reverberating throughout everyone's chests. "The attack was not severe enough to warrant exile," he paused to allow the cries of anger and argument to die down then continued, "but we have determined that Rosha is no longer a member of this village." Everyone, including Lansiah gave the Elder wrinkled brows of confusion and the man allowed his words to linger for a time before he explained. "Rosha will now be a dibleht*****." _

_The room erupted into cheers and laughter once more, hardly a member of society sparing the accused's feelings as they taunted. Lansiah could tell by the less than amused looks on the Atlanteans that they did not approve of the jeering but she also did not care. Rosha deserved more than mere humiliation; she wasn't going to encourage the crowd but she wasn't going to attempt to stop it either. _

_Iena pulled Karloff down for a brief conversation before the senior Elder stood back up and once again held up his hands. "Now, as Iena reminds me, there are those of us here that do not know what a dibleht is and for them, I will explain." He turned his body in the Atlantean's, briefly offering an apology to the on lookers for turning his back to them, and focused solely on them. "On Hoa, we believe every one to be equal. It is not an uncommon view from what we have seen on other worlds but we do make exceptions. The Elders," he waved an arm at the council members behind him, "and I are seen as above the rest but that is only true in terms of altercations, when the laws of our world must be enforced; otherwise we are no more above them as they are us." _

_Karloff glanced rather sternly at Rosha while he took a moment to breathe then continued, with his eyes on the Atlanteans. "However, we make exceptions when they are needed; we have not needed to make one in quite a long time as we are generally able to work things out through the law rather than attacking one another." _

"_A dibleht is a person or persons who have wronged someone of the community in one form or another. They are reduced from being a villager, one who is under the protection of this council, to a servant. Now, please do not misunderstand me," he continued hastily when he saw a fire ignite in Colonel Sheppard's eyes, "we do not treat our servants harshly but the only reason they forced to serve is because they have strayed from our ways and have taken the law into their own hands so they are not treated equally either. They are hosted by the family they have wronged, sleeping in a spare area that can be found and given food of the family's table. However, they are only allowed to eat and sleep when their "master" says they can. The council makes regular visits to ensure that they are not being starved or overworked; if they find that this is so, the dibleht is reinstated back into the village but forced to live and work with restrictions." _

"_And you are planning on making Rosha serve Carson or Lansiah?" Colonel Sheppard asked, slowly drawing out his words while his mind processed the information. _

"_Normally we would give him to Doctor Beckett since he was the one who has been wronged but we do not like to allow our members to be taken to another world against their consent," Tohhli answered in Karloff's stead, giving the senior member time to rest his voice and grab some water. He stood up, his thin frame paling horribly in comparison to Karloff's thicker one, and resumed the explanation. "The other members and I have discussed what we would do in this situation and we have agreed to do things differently. We will allow one member of each household to bid for Rosha as their servant, ensuring that his sentence is carried out but he also remains on Hoa." _

_The mumbles of the Hoans were quieter than the previous cries and cheers but they were still deafening in the enclosed room. Tohhli smiled warmly at the crowd like a father assuring his children and simply waited for them to quiet on their own. "Now, I will assume that you have all elected one person to represent your family so if you would please step forward so that we may begin." The sentence wasn't complete by any means but the questioning tone in the kindly man's tenor voice left no doubt of what he expected. _

_Several members of the village stepped forward almost hesitantly. This had never happened on Hoa before and they were confused by the change. They stood in a single line, all facing Rosha, silently waiting for the "bidding" to commence. _

"_A show of hands of those that wish to bid," Iena announced sternly. The strong, petite woman was barely able to hide a smile when no one raised their hands to indicate that they wanted the accused. She failed altogether when Rosha began sputtering and cursing those around him for their lack of loyalty. "Very well, it seems that we have no choice but to send him to Vassilion for work." _

"_Oh, I'm sorry, were we bidding?" Colonel Sheppard announced with all too fake innocence in his voice. He raised his hand to indicate that he was interested, drawing an unmanly shriek of fear when Ronon's lip curled into a feral smile, promising to play with him like a cat and a mouse. _

"_Surely you would not wish to have this man on Atlantis," Fralech questioned mockingly. All on Hoa knew about the Atlantean's dislike of having new people on the majestic city and he wasn't above teasing them about it. _

"_Well," the pilot answered, drawing out the word as his tone pitched then dropped, "we could sedate him, take him to Atlantis, see what Elizabeth would want to do, then sedate him again to remove him." _

"_You would take him to your leader and have her decide? Are you not able to decide such things for yourselves?" Chaafra questioned. _

"_I'm not so sure Elizabeth would approve of "our" way," Colonel Sheppard answered with a sly grin. _

"_What if I were to claim him?" Lansiah interrupted, surprising even herself with the suggestion. "I may need someone to watch him while I am away as I will be returning back to Atlantis and will not be coming back for a few months but if that is acceptable then I will claim him." _

"_I am not a dog!" Rosha objected loudly and angrily. _

"_As far as this council is concerned Rosha, you are exactly that," Karloff snapped with such bite in his tone it wouldn't have surprised anyone if the accused had started bleeding from the tone. The Elder sighed heavily, expelling his frustration and dislike of his options in the breath. "I am sorry Lansiah but that it not possible. Our laws do not allow for such circumstances and I do not wish this man on anyone who did not voluntarily bid for him." He waited for the weight of his words to sink in before he continued in yet another sigh. "It seems we have no choice but to exile him, though I do not believe Vassilion to be far enough. Parlek, possibly." _

"_Parlek!__" __Rosha__ shrieked __unable __to__ stop__ himself.__ "__That __is __where __we __send _criminals _to __make __their __way.__" _

"_Fitting, isn't it?" Tohhli answered with a wry smile. _

_The five Elders looked at one another, affirming each head nod for themselves before Karloff gave his own nod and spoke. "It is settled then! Rosha, we will give you enough time to gather your belongings and some necessary provisions then you will be on your way." _

_With the sentence having been doled out, the on lookers began to trickle out of the room. Two guards came and unbound Rosha while two more stood by, silently begging the accused to make a wrong move, and escorted him from the chamber. Once most of the crowd left, the Elders began to file out as well, each one tired from the excitement of the day and the weariness the winter brought to their bones. _

_With all gone out of the room Lansiah, Colonel Sheppard, and Ronon left for the jumper, eager to get back home._

* * *

><p>Lansiah left the jumper bay intending to head straight for her quarters but was detained by Colonel Sheppard reminding her that she needed to debrief Doctor Weir. The Hoan hung her head in defeat and grudgingly headed for the Leader of Atlantis' office, doing her best not to drag her feet the entire way. All she really wanted right now was a bath to decompress and get clean and then to see Carson but it seemed that would have to wait for another time.<p>

She started in surprise when she found Carson sitting across from Doctor Weir with his leg up on a spare chair that had been found and a worried but genuine smile on his face.

"Lansiah," he greeted happily. "How did it go love?"

Lansiah smiled and heaved a heavy sigh. She was tired from the day of traveling and nerves but she knew she would not be allowed to leave until after she'd told them both every single detail. Wishing she were a story teller and not a healer, the Hoan sat down in one of the spare chairs and began recounting her day.

* * *

><p>Salty air whipped around his body, wrapping him in the gentle cloak of the Atlantis sea breeze. It was currently seven o'clock on the evening and Carson was waiting for Lansiah to join him for dinner. The meal was a very American one – steak, potatoes, salad, and vegetables but the table was set with candles and wine glasses while Nat King Cole crooned in the background. The shuffling of soft feet sounded behind him and he awkwardly spun around to see Lansiah dressed in the normal petticoat and over-gown, looking for all the world like a woman who was ready to clean but Carson still found her to be stunning.<p>

"What is the occasion?" she asked with a smile as she walked up to him and kissed him. It had been their first kiss in almost a day and Carson leaned in more than was gentlemanly necessary but he didn't care – he just wanted to kiss her.

He never answered her question as he semi-pulled out her chair then went and sat down himself. He smiled as he watched her eye him for a minute then simply shrug and begin to eat. He had something he wanted to discuss with her but first he had to find to the courage to do it.

All too soon the meal had ended and the plates were put to the side so they could talk. Carson felt the weight of the silence around him begin to drown him before long and decided that it was time to be open with the woman he loved.

"Lansiah, Cara, I have something I would like to ask of ye but I'm not sure how ye'll take it," he began unable to hide the notes of fear in his voice. Lansiah looked intrigued but didn't respond, giving him time to say what he wished. "As ye know, I'll have to leave Atlantis for a bit ta recover." He paused, trying desperately to calm his frantically beating heart. It wasn't that he doubted whether or not she'd go but he worried that he is asking too much of her both in their relationship and for him.

"I'll be returning ta Scotland to visit me mum and brothers," he continued slowly while he gently spelled out where he was heading. "And, well, I was hoping ye'd come with me and meet m'mum?"

Lansiah was silent for so long, Carson thought he'd cry and began to take the question back. The look on her face was as guarded as a Wraith cell making it bloody impossible for him to see what she was feeling. It was only when a flash of tan flew passed him and he felt thin arms wrap around his neck that he knew how she truly felt.

"I would be honored to accompany you to your mother's Carson."

She hadn't said more than answering his question but they both knew what she was really saying yes to. They were now, officially, courting and neither one could be happier.

* * *

><p><em>He waited until the opportune moment before he slipped out of sight, easily escaping his escorts off Hoa. Oh he'd be going to the ancestral ring alright, but he would not be going where they banished him to. Quietly, Rosha crept through the snowy woods, casting wary eyes around him in search for enemies. His footsteps crunched in the frozen water as he walked towards the ring, the sounds echoing for miles. <em>

_The massiveness of the ancestral gate came into view and Rosha gave a feral snarl of both pleasure and anger. He'd get that ridiculous excuse for a being Doctor Beckett soon. For now – he must run. The gate activated a shimmering blue against the pure white of the snow, allowing Rosha to escape just as his escorts arrived. _

_**~To**__** Be **__**Continued~**_


	19. Author's Note

**~Author's Note~**

Hello Everyone!

I just wanted to post a note for those of you whom have asked me to continue the fic. I apologize that I had left you all to assume that this particular fic would be continuing but it will not. I am planning a sequel but it will not be written until November; I have several other fics that I need to finish before I begin a completely separate fiction and I'm hoping to have them finished by September or October of this year (2012), giving me ample time to plan the sequel to this one out.

As far as I have planned, there will be three stories in this series. I'm not sure of the dates the other two will be written but I do know that there will be three.

Again, I am so sorry for keeping some of you waiting anxiously for a continuation that wasn't to come; I hadn't realized how open I had left it. RL has been keeping me busy. :)

M


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